


Esiveanin

by SK_Kasai



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Lucifer comes back from hell, Michael and Lucifer are twins, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 04, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Chloe Decker, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 87,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SK_Kasai/pseuds/SK_Kasai
Summary: (Season 5 au)Life was good.No, scratch that. Life was perfect.Chloe would have never envisioned herself having these thoughts, much less spending most of her day pondering over them. Ever since that night where she found Lucifer in the Penthouse, almost two weeks ago, everything had been going by smoothly.Sometimes, she could hardly believe it.She’d wait for the other shoe to drop. She’d wait for Lucifer to announce that he had to leave again. She’d wait for demons or angels or a platitude of other creatures that were just myths to her less than a year ago to show up with plans of world domination or something.2 weeks later...Lucifer was not okay.As a matter of fact, Lucifer was so far away from okay that she was doubting that she would ever be okay herself again.How could she not have noticed?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Moningstar
Comments: 343
Kudos: 637





	1. Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fic_me_up_buttercup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fic_me_up_buttercup/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everybody! I dunno if you're sick of hearing this, but stay safe and be careful. I hope you're all as well as can be...
> 
> This was inspired by a prompt given to me by the awesome Fic_me_up_buttercup. It took me a while to write because I had so many ideas for it... It's such an amazing prompt though. It went on like this: "Lucifer has been back for just barely over two weeks now, and much to Chloe’s pleasant surprise, they had fallen into a quiet routine of domesticity (or as domestic as one could get with Lucifer).
> 
> Every morning when Chloe wakes up, she is greeted with a warm breakfast, and Lucifer, siting at her kitchen table, looking like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to return. He rides with her to the precinct, and even packs Trixie’s lunch for her. After work, he rides back home with her and either cooks dinner or hovers around while she cooks, never straying far from her side. After the dinner is cooked, and Trixie is washing her hands to eat, Lucifer always excuses himself, claiming that he has work to do at LUX.
> 
> It’s perfect. Well... almost perfect.
> 
> Chloe is so caught up in the bliss of having Lucifer back that she almost doesn’t notice at first. She almost doesn’t notice how Lucifer never eats, always excusing himself before meals. Almost doesn’t notice how the bags under his eyes are the color of bruises and how he looks like he hasn’t slept since before he left for Hell. She almost doesn’t notice how he never initiates touch with her or how he looks at her with such awe and longing when ever she lays a hand on his arm or places a gentle peck on his lips. Almost doesn’t notice how tense he is or how whenever anybody but her tries to touch him, he whirls on them with a snarl and barely contained flames in his eyes. She almost doesn’t notice, but she does."
> 
> Hope you like it!

_“I love you. Please don’t go.”_

_“My first love was never Eve. It was always you, Chloe.”_

_“Goodbye.”_

She…

Chloe Jane Decker did not miss that asshole that she kissed on that balcony about six months ago.

No sir. 

She did not miss him, because the sheer amount of emotions exploding in her chest and setting her very soul on fire every time she thought of him could not possibly be _just_ missing him.

 _He’s not an asshole, Decker._ she'd chide herself, _He had to go save the world. The universe. Everything you know and love. Everything he knows and loves. Including you…_

But it still wasn’t fair. Why was it her boyfriend, the one man that she knew loved with all her heart and soul like no other before him, the one burdened with the responsibility of keeping everything safe? She wished that he'd stayed. It made her feel like an asshole herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Not when every night was full of his face. His touch. His smile. The way his lips brushed against hers that one last time, their salty tears mixing together in some sadistic show of misery…

She missed his stupid puns. She missed the way he would get her perfect coffee and always spike his with some type of alcohol or another. She missed his adorable giggle and the dumb way he misunderstood all sorts of things that were trivial to any other normal human (or celestial).

Chloe needed the eggs, but she needed her best friend back too. Devil face or bat wings included… She just wanted him back.

The days after his agonizing departure were a haze that she still regretted. Had there been no Dan, who would have taken care of Trixie while she slowly spiralled into semi-madness with grief?

She’d cried.

She’d collapsed on his bed, still smelling like him, and she’d sobbed her eyes out. She’d tried to get up at some point, to pretend that she could just continue her life without him…

She’d waited for him to come back, to announce that it was all some insensitive joke. Perhaps the issue would have been resolved? How long did it even take to properly contain a demon uprising?

She’d went from disbelief to anger very quickly, trying to hate him the moment Linda’s arms had wrapped around her shaking shoulders.

Chloe had been lost then. For a very long time.

Everyone worried. They tried to cheer her up, to try and get her to forget the eccentric, devilish club owner who had wormed his way into all of their hearts.

However, the sympathy in Ella’s eyes that she had to face almost every day… The implied I-told-you-so in Dan’s tone every time they had a conversation… Linda’s frequent phone calls and Trixie’s nightmares about her favourite hug-averted devil…

It was all _too much._

There had been of course one person to put the blame on of course.

Lucifer _"Bloody"_ Morningstar.

She’d tried to loathe him. She’d tried to imagine his return, swearing to herself that she would never consider a relationship between them regardless of what he said or didn’t say. After all, she didn’t deserve to have her heart broken _every single damn time_. She didn’t deserve to be left behind. Chloe was enraged and lost and afraid. Her entire world seemed to pale without him in it, every interaction lacking without his annoying, pompous accent to add his ridiculous input in. She wanted to hate him. No, she _needed_ to hate him.

Ultimately, she failed. Chloe didn't have any false hopes about succeeding in this particular regard.

She found herself worrying about him, wondering if there was anything she could do to help, asking his brother for ways to contact him… She knew her Lucifer. He didn’t fare well with being alone. If she was suffering and hurting then, as much as it pained her to admit it, Lucifer was going through much worse.

And so she prayed.

Every night after she finished tucking Trixie in, she’d close her bedroom door, get on her knees beside her bed, clasp her hands together, and pray.

  
She’d pray to him, begging him to return.

She’d ranted once about how she hated him, how he deserved to be in hell, how she wished she’d never met him… Of course, a few hours later, she’d leapt up from where she’d been trying-and failing- to sleep like a crazed woman, sobbing and declaring that it was all lies and she just wanted him back _please_. She loved him.

After that, it’d been love message after love message, the uncertainty of whether he could hear her or not doing nothing to discourage her.

_Hey, Lucifer. Just wanted to let you know that I love you. I’m proud of you… I… you’re so strong and this isn’t… it’s not fair. I know. I’m so sorry it had to be like this…_

_Lucifer, Trixie says hi. She misses you too. Game nights kind of suck without your stupid, useless conundrums…_

_Lucifer, there was this case this week where…_

_Lucifer, did you know that Charlie is now…_

_Lucifer, Trixie just…_

_Lucifer, I…_

_Lucifer…_

_Lucifer…_

_Lucifer…_

Maybe it was pathetic, but Chloe couldn't bring herself to care.

It was therapeutic. For the first time in her life, Chloe could understand why spent so much time praying to whatever god(s) they believed in. It gave her hope and the loneliness just a bit more bearable.

But then, some other times, the loneliness would just be too much.

If she didn’t have to take care of Trixie that particular night, the Detective would find herself walking out of that large elevator and into the Penthouse.

It was Lucifer’s one home in the universe after all. Chloe liked to think that he had a home with her and her daughter wherever he went, but she also knew that they weren’t quite that far ahead in their relationship. Lucifer didn’t know. How would he know when he’d cried when she confessed her love to him?

She’d go put on one of his dress-shirts, reminiscent of the night he gave her the bullet necklace (which never left its place above her heart, thank you very much).

She’d sit at his piano and browse his bookshelves and wander around in his spacious wardrobe. Chloe would imagine them here together and she’d imagine him here alone. His most basic of routines and the silliest things about him seemed to mean the most to her. Lucifer wouldn’t have minded. He'd been robbed of their time together too; of finally having someone love him and work to prove to him that he _mattered._ Her devilish would-be-boyfriend was the ultimate victim in this nightmare that had become her life.

Eventually, she stopped coming as much.

She had to. Moving on was a necessity and not a simple choice.

She didn’t forget him of course.

Lucifer had a solid place in every thought that went around her head and in every moment that she existed, awake or asleep. Once the anger and the blame failed to take place, Chloe began to wonder if she should stop reminiscing about him like that.

It hurt.

But she was doing well. Sort of.

She'd go to work, come home, and even go on a few tribe nights with her friends. Life went on. Trixie didn't stop growing up and murderers didn't take a vacation to accommodate her heartache. Her life always seemed to have the tinge of ache and suffering in the background, but it was alright. For the most part.

Sometimes, she'd allow herself to take a short break and grieve. 

Some nights, she'd scroll through their pictures on her phone, or read through their texts, or just close her eyes and remember all their conversations.

Other nights, like tonight, she’d follow the invisible call tugging at her heartstrings and leading her back to Lucifer’s main lavish abode.

The tears started the moment the elevator doors closed and it began to ascend. Maze had taken over running LUX, leading to some _very_ interesting tribe nights.

Chloe giggled, recalling some of the idiotic things she’d said and done those few times her distress had made her succumb to drinking one’s pain away for the night.

Lucifer would've been amused.

She imagined him watching her drink, making jokes about lightweights and pesky celestial metabolism. Could he get drunk around her?

She locked the elevator, not in the mood for Maze or any of their friends coming after her. It wasn’t like Maze needed the elevator to get in, but still…

The Detective turned on some of the lights, her heart warming at the familiar sight before her.

She could almost see Lucifer snoring on the couch or playing a harrowing melody on his piano as he brooded after a tough case or standing by his impressive wall of liquors, holding a large, full tumbler and spewing witty, silly things at her.

The Penthouse looked sad.

She’d clean it every once in a while despite how Lucifer’s usual cleaning company seemed to get to that. It made her feel like she was doing something useful.

Chloe made her way to the closet, already taking off her thin jacket and her white blouse. Soon enough, her pants, shoes, socks, purse, and gun holster were added to the pile.

It had been about a month since she last came here and the dress-shirts of his that she had commanded for her own wear had long since lost his scent (simultaneously losing the ability to coax her to sleep).

It was time for some new ones.

She grinned when she walked into the closet, the smell of his cologne persisting in the air. Although she felt silly doing it, Chloe closed her eyes, imagining herself back in his arms, hugging her poor, lonely devil. It wasn’t like anyone could see her, right?

They all so the composed, strong Chloe Decker who shrugged off this tragedy after several days of brooding and then went on with her life because that was how strong she was.

Chloe wasn’t strong.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was breaking; falling apart at the seams, a tiny bit more every day.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

She found one of the deep purple shirts that Lucifer had paraded around in occasionally, quickly shrugging it on. Chloe stared at the rows of designer suits and expensive dress shoes, wondering what would Lucifer be wearing in hell. Did you even wear clothes in hell? He’d miss these, the impossible snob...

Any research that she had done about hell was futile. Everything humans had about the fiery realm seemed to be contradictory. Amenadiel was no help, avoiding her questions like the plague. Maze would happily discuss her home with Chloe, but her gruesome description and violent images… they were too much, only serving to make her spend a few nights sobbing her eyes out in the privacy of her own bedroom.

How would Lucifer survive demons and wailing souls for company? No sun and no stars… No realistic food. No _music_. That alone was enough to convince her that Hell wasn’t a place that her partner could spend time in.

But he’d done so before.

For millennia.

Because Lucifer was ridiculously old and ridiculously hurt and ridiculously mistreated.

She made a bee-line for his bed, her depressing thoughts making her wish she could just sink into slumber and not wake up for a long, long time. The likelihood of dreaming about soulful dark eyes and annoying British accents was high, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to rest. Was that too much to ask for?  
She’d moved to the right side of the King sized bed, trying to convince herself that Lucifer would never come back. 

Of course, that was before her bare foot stepped on something cold and soft.

Chloe yelped, her hand flying to her hip despite not having her gun at the moment. She jumped back, her body immanently taking on a defensive stance, training kicking in.

Demons? Angels? Thief? No someone else? Some monster?

It was too dark in his bedroom to appropriately discern the nature of what she had stumbled on!

She could either overpower whatever broke in or make it to the closet where her gun was and-

It groaned. _They_ groaned.

The humanoid form on the ground groaned.

They shifted, shadows dancing along long, pale limbs. Then, the mystery person was standing up, wobbling on their feet and holding onto the bed frame for support.

“Look, I don’t know who you are and I don’t care but this is a-”

“Detective?”

No.

No. No. No.

_No._

She was not going to fall for this. It just wouldn’t happen. 

NO!

“Detective?”

His voice was weak, hoarser than she’d ever heard it, but the familiar word… She couldn’t possibly mistake it.

She’d flinched for a week every time someone called her that at work after his departure, a pathetic part of her lost in the belief that it might be him and another even more pathetic part imprisoned in the memory of a word he’d repeated to the point of driving her crazy.

It had to be him. No one else sounded like that and no one-

“Detective? Are you-”

Chloe sobbed, shoulders drooping. She crossed the few feet between them in a blur, wrapping her arms around him.

The force of her desperate hug sent them both to the ground. She landed on top of him, hands fumbling for the tightest grip that she could manage on his body.

Lucifer groaned but she hardly heard it over her own sobs. 

He was there and he was real and… and…

He was sobbing. Just like her. 

They were both crying, loud and painful. Crying for everything they’d been through, for everything they’d missed, for everything they’d thought they’d lost…  
His hair was damp and his face was much thinner. He looked haunted, tired beyond belief.

“Just got here.” He whispered stroking her hair, “I was having a shower… Shaving… getting dressed… Wanted to surprise you, Detective. If you’ll still have me of course… I’m so, so sorry...”

“Lucifer.” She sobbed, burying her face in his neck, “It’s okay. _We’re_ okay. Everything is going to be okay, Lucifer. You’ll see… Everything is going to be okay...”

How could she have imagined slapping him or sending him away? Glaring at him and telling him off for breaking her heart even though it wasn’t technically his fault?

Here, in his arms, Chloe doubted that she would ever be able to let go of him.

“I love you, Lucifer.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his damp, white, shirt, “I missed you and I love you...”

“Y-you still do?” He sounded shocked, scandalized even, “I thought you’d hate me. I thought you’d send me away. I-”

She managed to move up a little bit, her knee eliciting a soft groan as it pressed into his lower thigh. Chloe wrapped her arms around his before reaching over to bury a hand in his messy, damp hair. She leaned down, sealing their lips together, trying to make him understand what words would never accurately explain to his weary, broken heart.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"Lucifer?" She whispered that morning, nudging him. They'd stayed on the floor for a while before moving up to his bed. It was all cuddling and the occasional heated kiss though. Lucifer seemed... lost somehow. Distracted. He'd pulled away when she'd try to go any further and Chloe had stopped, respecting his wishes despite her shock.

He'd been through literal hell. Lucifer got a pass for acting weird for a while. He got a pass for being a bit unlike himself or for being tired.

"Lucifer." She tried again, her hand skirting along his stubble, the fine, short hairs tickling her skin. Lucifer's face was buried in her neck, bodies tangled together in a way that she was not exactly sure which limb belonged to who.

It was perfect.

"Hmm?" He managed at last, leaning back and cracking one eye open. He looked... scared. Nervous. He looked as though he expected her to send him away or to declare her unadulterated hatred towards him.

She had a lot of work to do.

"We're good." She smiled, trying to reassure him as much as she could. "You and I, everything is fine. I-I don't hate you or anything. I'm not leaving you, okay? I was mad before and I tried, Lucifer, I tried really, really hard to hate you. But I couldn't. I _can't._ What happened wasn't your fault and-"

"You're not...? You won't?" Lucifer scrambled away from her, eyes wide and mouth hanging wide open, stuttering as he tried to get his words out.

She rose slowly from her comfortable position on the bed, sitting up to face him. Lucifer seemed to tense. She took his shaking hands and hers and gave him another smile.

"Of course not." Her eyes were not wet-rimmed. She was _not_ going to cry over this again. Enough tears had been spilled and he was here. Safe and real and within arms reach.

"Chloe." He breathed, a prayer and a benediction. He was staring at her, trying his hardest to understand. Lucifer was... he was crying?

Lucifer sobbed, as if to confirm her theory.

She rushed to him, scrambling on her hands and knees to cover the short distance between them. Lucifer ended up in her arms, his face hidden in his chest, his tears almost burning her skin like drops of molten iron.

She shushed him and rubbed his back, peppering his hair and the side of his face with kisses.

Since when did Lucifer cry? And not just cry... He was openly sobbing, gasping for breath as he struggled with his emotions. He shuddered in her hands, breaking down with the magnitude of matters that she could not begin to comprehend.

It didn't matter though, right? He needed her. People... Hell was... People returned broken from normal, earthly struggles. If he sobbed the morning after he came back from _hell._ In the light of what he had been through, Chloe supposed that not crying at least once should have worried her more.

"It's all going to be fine, Lucifer." She hushed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, "You... you won't leave again, right?" She hated the hesitancy in her voice, the tears fighting so hard to escape her eyes...

"N-never!" Lucifer gasped, shaking his head against her shoulder, "D-detective, never! Not as long as I'm a-alive and... and I have a say in the matter."

It was the best she could hope for. Chloe pushed down the doubt inside her, the anger, the hurt... One step at a time. None of it was his fault.

"That's good." She grinned, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I love you, Lucifer. I've never stopped. I meant it that night on the balcony. I love you, you understand?"

"I thought you'd send me away." He replied, his voice meek, "I-I was expecting to see you one last time at best and you'd-"

"Hey, listen to me," she urged, taking his face in her hands and angling his chin so that she could look him in the eye, " _that_ is never going to happen. Ever. I love you and when you love someone, Lucifer, you don't send them away."

"And I you, Detective." He whispered, eyes glistening with what seemed like a never-ending stream of hot tears, "But, I-I don't understand. How can you...? I left. I hurt you. I'm a monster; the literal devil. I don't understand."

"I'll help you understand, Lucifer." Chloe vowed, "You're not a monster. You're... you're my boyfriend. My best friend. You're Lucifer Morningstar and you're back and _I love you._ We can work everything else out later."

She held him for a long time.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Life was good.

No, scratch that. Life was perfect.

Chloe would have never envisioned herself having these thoughts, much less spending most of her day pondering over them. Ever since that night where she found Lucifer in the Penthouse, almost two weeks ago, everything had been going by smoothly.

Sometimes, she could hardly believe it.

She’d wait for the other shoe to drop. She’d wait for Lucifer to announce that he had to leave again. She’d wait for demons or angels or a platitude of other creatures that were just myths to her less than a year ago to show up with plans of world domination or something.

“I’m staying, my love.” Lucifer had promised through his tears, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

And he was.

Lucifer had basically moved in with her and Trixie.

Every night, she’d fall asleep in his arms and wake up still snuggled to him. Every morning, she’d watch him and Trixie cook breakfast and argue over the most trivial of things. They’d go to the precinct, engage in all manners of “Quintessential Deckerstar” behaviour (minus a few aspects; not believing that he was the devil being the most obvious one). Then, they'd come back to the heaven otherwise known as her apartment.

Lucifer would watch movies with them. They’d have everything from Game Nights to pillow fights. He was there in every aspect of her life, just as she’d dreamed before. He was always there to kiss, to hug, to cuddle with, and to simply enjoy being around. 

Chloe stretched, rising from bed to the smell of coffee. She grinned to herself, realizing that breakfast preparations must have been finished. Lucifer always left the coffee to last, certain that its rich smell would be what finally drags her out of bed. She debated parading around in one of his dress shirts, a recent favourite clothing choice of hers, then decided against it. Chloe still grabbed his discarded silky, black robe and tugs it on over her plaid pyjamas. 

She shuffled over to their kitchen, mind fuzzy with sleep and the bliss that was her current day-to-day life.

Sure enough, Lucifer was standing at the stove, flipping the last pancake. He was caught in a deep argument with her daughter, fighting about the best way to… build a pillow fort?

“Lucifer, you’ve never built a pillow fort before.” Trixie was saying, arms crossed over her chest from where she was standing by his side, “How would you know the best way to build it?”

“I watched several YouTube tutorials on the matter!” Lucifer retorted, balancing the last pancake on top of a long stack and handing it back to the little girl, “I am certain that the information I’ve gathered is far more superior to whatever nonsense Detective Douche has taught you.”

“I know daddy is mean to you sometimes.” Trixie sighed, “Okay, _most_ of the time.” She amended, “But he did make great pillow forts.”

“But that was ages ago!”

“Five or six years isn’t ages ago.” Her daughter laughed, rolling her eyes, “Especially not to you; you’re literally immortal, Lucifer. You’ve been around for billions and billions of years!”

“Well, maybe pillow fort architecture has witnessed a change of sorts in these past five to six years.” Lucifer suggested, turning to see her standing there at the kitchen entrance, watching them with fondness.

“Detective!”

His face lit up, a noticeable shift in all his features making her chest ache for him.

Lucifer still looked thinner. Much, much thinner than she remembered. He still had dark circles, almost bruise-like, under his eyes. Chloe supposed that he’d need more than a few weeks to fully recuperate from the effects hell must have had on him. She tried to not dwell on it too much though, restricting her thoughts to worrying about her boyfriend occasionally and attempting to focus on all the good things going on in their lives at the moment.

_"Are you sure you're alright?" She'd ask._

_"As well as can be, my love." He'd smile. Chloe did not push it too much, not wanting to stress him or to smother him._

The Detective walked over to him, giving him a light peck on the lips and wrapping him in her arms. He slumped into her, relaxing instantly, his smile somehow managing to turn even brighter. Her arm slipped to his waist, stroking his side through his black hoodie. (Lucifer in casual wear was something that she just… _Wow_. He made everything-and nothing- look good, but how could anyone possibly manage _that_?)

“You guys are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!” Her daughter gushed, moving in to hug them both. She always said something along those lines. Every single morning and then a hundred times a day. It never failed to make Chloe grin like the love-struck fool that she was.

“Oh, dearie me.” Lucifer frowned, a low crash sounding next to him.

She turned to see what was wrong, watching him attempt to wipe off the maple syrup that had fallen and splashed his hand, trousers, and bare feet.

“OOo, you’re gonna be sticky forever now!” Trixie laughed.

“Not a chance, urchin.” Lucifer huffed, eyeing the mess with distaste, “I’ll go have a shower immeadiately. That should serve to… rectify this. Later, darling?”

“We’ll wait for you to have breakfast?” Chloe asked, a bit saddened by his departure.

“No need.” Lucifer waved a dismissive hand, “Your breakfast will get cold. I’ll have a shower and get dressed for the day.”

“Then I’ll leave you a plate on the counter?”

“Yes, please.” He answered.

Lucifer looked at her, all wonder and sparkling eyes. He seemed reluctant to let go of her, making her squeeze him tighter and press another kiss to his plush lips. 

Lucifer beamed at her, beyond ecstatic at the simple show of love. He stroked her cheek for just a moment, his long, trembling fingers and soft eyes making her feel as though she was the most holy thing in the cosmos. Lucifer turned to leave, threatening to pour another bottle of maple syrup on Trixie’s head if she kept on badgering him.

Life was perfect.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Are you guys going to keep arguing or are you going to build the pillow fort for us to enjoy?” Chloe wondered from where was curled up on the couch, literally munching on popcorn. The debate had been going on for about thirty minutes.

Who knew that “pillow fort architecture”, as Lucifer referred to it, was an actual thing that required this much arguing?

Then again, Chloe supposed that an actual eleven-year-old and an immortal devil who was probably younger than an eleven-year-old maturity-wise could probably spend hours fighting over anything and everything.

“Lucifer,” Trixie sighed gravely, “do you trust me?”

“But you said my first pillow fort has to be perfect!”

“Exactly!” Her daughter grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the couch where she was sitting, “I won’t let your first pillow fort be a bust, Lucifer. Just sit down and kiss mom or something while I make the pillow fort and then we can all have fun inside it.”

Chloe blushed, giggling when her daughter managed to get Lucifer to sit down by her side. He seemed to relent suddenly, looking a bit worried but otherwise fine.

“Come on, my fearsome Prince of Darkness.” She laughed, setting her popcorn on the floor by the couch, “Settle down.”

Lucifer gave her a watery smile in return, scooting closer. She manoeuvred him, adjusting his long limbs so that he ended up curled up on the couch with his head on her lap. Slowly and rythmatically, she stroked his thick, dark hair. Lucifer seemed to melt into her touch, relaxing and smiling at her ministrations, eyes closing in total bliss.

Mission accomplished.

Trixie grinned at her, giving her a thumbs up. Chloe winked in return, watching her daughter start moving chairs and blankets for a little while before turning back to the lonely devil on her lap. She took great pleasure in watching him like this, relaxed and uninhibited. She trailed a hand along his cheekbones, more prominent now that his cheeks were more hollow than she could ever remember them being. Her poor devil…

It didn’t take Trixie too long to set up the pillow fort. Soon, the entire living room was turned into an assortment of blankets and covers, a kingdom of sorts. Chloe smiled, shaking her head. 

Trixie had always built pillow forts with Dan, back before the divorce and before their lives changed forever. It was one of her favourite things to do. After Dan stopped doing it with her, Trixie had abandoned the tradition, refusing to engage in it with her or anyone else and labelling it as “childish” and “for babies”. That was until Lucifer had mentioned that he’d never been inside a pillow fort while they were discussing the best fun things to do the previous night. Trixie had been appalled, promising to build him the “best pillow fort ever”. Too bad that it was already past her little monkey’s bed time last night…

What shocked Chloe even more was that Lucifer was actually going along with it.

Lucifer of all people.

He didn't wave off Trixie's childish ideas about fun. When she'd said that he _had_ to try being inside a pillow fort, Lucifer had just agreed. He did 't call it silly or ridiculous. As a matter of fact, he gave it as much thought as her daughter did, acting as though it was a matter of utmost importance.

Then again, he seemed incredibly compliant of almost everything Trixie suggested ever since his return. He wasn’t a pushover per se, but he dropped his posh act. Recently, Lucifer had been willing to do anything as long as it was “fun” in his own eyes, appearances and reputations be damned. It had lead to a lot of adorable moments like this.

“All done!” Trixie announced, rushing over to poke Lucifer in the cheek, “You can look now and have your mind blown by how awesome this is.”

Lucifer didn’t say anything for a moment, not even moving. They believed that he must have fallen asleep until he cracked an eye open, smiling at them.

“I happen to like my mind the way it is, urchin.” He whispered, “Also, I highly doubt my ability to get up right now.”

Trixie grinned at him, mulling his quiet statement over.

“So you’re gonna miss the pillow fort?”

Lucifer just hummed, eyes closing again.

“Lucifer!” She whined, poking him in the cheek again, causing a frown to pull at his lips.

“’S not like the pillow fort is going to go anywhere.” He mumbled at last.

“Mom isn’t gonna go anywhere either.” Trixie pointed out, “Not anywhere that you’re not in at least. Come on!”

Chloe laughed, watching her daughter clasp Lucifer’s hand and begin trying to pry him off the couch. Lucifer, of course, did not budge.

“Monkey...” She scolded, placing her hands on her boyfriend’s shoulders. Maybe he was tired or sleepy? He had been awfully tired these past few days...

“Fine.” He sighed, long-suffering, “I’ll move, but you have to stop touching me and attempting to dislocate my shoulder in return, urchin.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, swatting his wrist. She let go of his hand though and stood by the couch, arms crossed again as she waited for him to get up.

It took a minute or so, but Lucifer sat up. He rubbed at his eyes, looking quite sullen at having to be away from her. She a comforting hand up and down along the center of his back, still avoiding his scars despite all this time. He leaned into her touch gratefully, stretching and yawning.

“I suppose your torture can commence now, urchin.” He declared.

Trixie dragged them both by the hand to her creation. Lucifer stared at it in suspicion, grumbling about douches when he had to crawl to reach the inside of the fort.

“All pillow forts are supposed to be like this.” Trixie rolled her eyes, “Besides, how would anyone make a pillow fort with a roof high enough for you to not have to lean down? It'd be too huge."

“I’m not that tall, spawn.” Lucifer grumbled, “You’re just incredibly short and tiny.”

They settled inside, shifting and alternating positions until they found one that had everyone comfortable.

Trixie had dedicated a corner of the fort to snacks, the most notable of which being chocolate cake of course. She’d brought out the old fairy lights, strewing them about the “ceiling” of the fort with great artistic taste. She’d even brought in a few books, magazines, board games, toys, and DVDs in addition to tiny keyboard that she had gotten a few birthdays ago.

“So that you can play.” She explained to Lucifer, earning a scandalized look.

“Urchin, my fingers don’t even fit on those keys!” He exclaimed, “That abomination is an insult to music! It’s all out of tune too!” He added when she began to press random keys, grinning at his complaints.

Since their latest deal included a no touching catch, Chloe ended up sandwiched between her two favourite people. She was leaning against a mountain of pillows (brought in by Lucifer earlier that day). Lucifer was staring at the glowing lights up ahead, his head pillowed on her shoulder. On her other shoulder, her little monkey was making herself comfortable.

It was beyond relaxing.

“Usually, all pillow forts have a password.” Trixie explained, “Since it’s your first pillow fort ever, Lucifer, you can have the honour of picking our official password.”

“Is it that important?” Lucifer frowned, eyes never leaving the lights.

“Yes!” Trixie stressed.

“But there’s no one else in the house.” Lucifer countered, still frowning, “And if someone decided to break into our pillow fort, they would not need much effort. It’s all made of linen and pillows, urchin. Cotton is no concrete... What purpose would a password even serve?”

“Well,” Trixie intoned severely, “there’s this thing called fun, Lucifer. Ever heard of it?”

“I’ll have you know that I practically invented fun, urchin.” Lucifer informed her.

“Just pick a word!”

“ _Esiveanin_.” Lucifer said after a pause.

“Esi...vanin?” Chloe struggled to repeat it.

  
“Your pronunciation is atrocious.” He chuckled, “Esi-vee-ya-nin. That would be close enough at least.”

“What does that mean, babe?”

“It’s...” He trailed off, “It’s what I called the first star I ever made.” He told them quietly, not daring to look at them, eyes still focused on the blinking lights above, “It’s Enochian. Roughly translates to “Summit of joy” or… something with a good memory in it at least. I am… uncertain. I invented the word, you see. So long ago...”

Lucifer… He’d never have shared something like this before. Chloe was frozen, waiting for whatever was going to come out of his mouth next.

“Can you show it to me sometime, please?” Trixie asked in an equally quiet voice, almost afraid to shatter the moment, turning to him with wide eyes.

“It… I am certain that it has long since erupted into a supernova, urchin.”

“Oh.” Trixie faltered, “What did it look like then?”

“It was small.” He confessed after a moment, a tiny smile on his face, eyes misty with memories of a time before humans even existed, “The smallest star I’d ever made. Quite pathetic really, but it was my first star. I’d just gotten the job. Let there be light and all that… So my… my brother and I… we worked on it. Together. It took forever and we were so tired. We’d never created something like it before. Focusing alone took us a considerable amount of time. But, by the end of it, there was this tiny, glowing ball of purest white. It lit up the primordial darkness surrounding us. They… they said that they saw it all the way back in the Silver City...”

Lucifer looked shocked, uncertain as to why he was talking. The words flowed out of his mouth in a hushed tone, as if voicing them louder might have broached some untold rule or robbed them of the magic they seemed to possess.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

It was the first time that she’d heard Lucifer talking about something good from his… old life. It was the first time in all of the years that she’d known him that he talked about a brother fondly… He sounded happy. Nostalgic.

She turned to hug him.

“That’s really beautiful, Lucifer.” Trixie breathed, getting up and crawling until she reached his other side, “Best password ever. I know the deal said that I’ll stop touching you but...”

She just eased herself down next to him, burrowing into his chest. Lucifer froze, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. Trixie, more than sued to his antics, simply made herself comfortable. His gaze persisted for a moment before he deflated, cautiously raising an arm and draping it over the little girl snuggled into him.

“This is nice.” He whispered, breathless.

"Is your brother still around?" Trixie asked, "Can I meet him? Can you show me how to make stars? Please?"

"He's…" Lucifer swallowed thickly, blinking, "We don't really talk anymore. Him and I. I do not think I could show you how to make stars here, urchin. It's dangerous."

"What was his name?" Trixie asked.

Chloe was prepared to tell her off, to gently redirect her attention elsewhere. Lucifer hated questions about his family. Actually, Lucifer hated his family. He would never answer and-

"Michael." Lucifer whispered, "I'd refer to him as "My" or "Mike" or "Mikey" back then."

Lucifer didn't talk for a long time afterwards. Trixie did not badger him more either.

The lights cast shadows over his face, making him look even more outwardly than usual. He relaxed bit by bit, allowing her and her daughter to cuddle him between them. They talked for a while, about nothing and everything. Lucifer seemed to be lost in his own memories, transfixed by the cheap plastic lights that seemed to remind him of the grandiosity of stars that he’d created eons ago.

It wasn’t too long before he fell asleep, eyes closing for the last time that night and breaths deepening. They both followed him eventually.  
Life was perfect, or so she thought.

Oh, was she wrong...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 will be posted very soon! The second part is more angst-heavy, written from Lucifer's POV. I've changed a bit of points from the original prompt to accommodate something that will be revealed in the next part. 
> 
> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Now, also, if you ever wanna hang out on twitter: https://twitter.com/NerdQueen777?s=09  
> Or Tumblr: https://sk-kasai-my-world.tumblr.com/


	2. Deep Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was previously a part of chapter 1. I separated them since this has now become a multi-chapter work. A 10k intro seemed a bit too much in the light of that... 
> 
> So take notice of that and sorry for any confusion. Enjoy!

"Lucifer?" She asked, peeling her eyes away from her paperwork, "What do you want to have for lunch today?"

Lucifer seemed to snap out of his daze, the pen that he had been fiddling with for the last twenty minutes falling out of his hand and clattering to the floor.

"Anything you want, darling." He shrugged.

Chloe frowned, watching him bend down to grab the fallen pen. He looked beyond haggard, his features long since frozen in a background of constant weariness. 

"Are you alright, Lucifer?" She questioned, knowing how much he hated that question but still needing to ask it anyways. She'd been asking it a lot.

"I'm fine. Always fine, darling." He replied, giving her a fickle smile, turning the pen in his fingers and beginning to play with it again. "Are you sure you can't just... burn this endless mountain of paperwork? There are far more entertaining things to do, Detective."

She snorted, giving him an exasperated grin and an on-brand Decker eye roll.

"Truly now!"

They bantered for a bit, flirting back and forth as well.

"Enough." She laughed, scolding him half-heartedly, "I need to get this done, Lucifer."

Lucifer had the nerve to _pout_ at her. "But Detective!"

"Stop whining." She giggled. 

"The devil does not _whine_!" 

"He doesn't help me with _our_ paperwork either." She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Lucifer shrugged again, giving her an apologetic look as if to confirm "Can't help you with that".

Chloe laughed again, fond above anything else.

He watched her work for a while, fiddling with anything and everything. He'd joke and talk to her occasionally or he'd return smiles passers by were giving him. The news of Lucifer's return to the precinct had not completely blown over yet. It had barely been a few days after all. Chloe frowned, noticing how he stiffened and grew more agitated with every pat on the shoulder or casual touch various people were giving. Something inside of her seemed to throb, watching him grow more and more uncomfortable, eventually settling into the look of a cornered, abused animal of sorts.

She hadn't looked at her papers in about five minutes, just watching him, mind racing and heart twisting.

The Detective was about to say something to him about it, probably suggesting that he take a break for now, when Lucifer beat her to it.

"I-I'll go get some fresh air." He declared, pursing his lips and jumping from his seat, "Maybe get some more coffee? It looks like we are going to be stuck here getting tortured for a few more hours at the very least, unless, of course, someone does us the favour of getting murdered." He laughed, nervous and short, "Your usual order, love?"

"Lucifer..." She should say something. Address this. Talk to him. Try to help him. However, as she stared at the plea in his eyes and the way he looked like he was about to bolt from the bullpen, Chloe couldn't bring the words out. She smiled instead, nodding and wishing she could kiss him. Was professionalism really that important? She'd already filled out the forms required for partners dating and handed them to HR, so it wasn't like they were keeping it a secret.

With Lucifer, a kiss or a casual touch (from her only apparently) always managed to soothe him better than any words ever could. It never ceased to amaze her. She'd do something as simple as stroking his cheek or playing with his hair or holding his hand and Lucifer would just melt into it, forgetting everything.

She watched him rush out, avoiding an intern that stopped to greet him or something.

Chloe's heart sank. The forboding pessimism of something being wrong reutnred. She tried to ignore it, but the dread of the small clues that she was finding strewn about Lucifer's most casual of behaviours seemed to be too strong.

Hopefully, it was unfounded.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Daniel Espinoza was having a bad day.

It was a bad day in a bad week in a bad several years ever since a certain pompous asshole crawled his way into their lives.

Dan had lost his wife and his job for a while. He'd lost his family. He just kept losing and losing. Charlotte had been the last straw.

He headed off to the break room, intent on grabbing another mug of horrible coffee. After all, he hadn't had any sleep last night and then hardly any the night before.

Lucifer Morningstar was back and life was going to turn into even more shit.

Speak of the devil, the same devil that the arrogant clubowner pretended to be, and he shall come.

"Watch where you're going." Dan growled, pushing Lucifer with more force than necessary when he bumped into him.

"I... Yes, sorry, Daniel." Lucifer shuddered, nodding his head fervently.

He looked like shit.

Lucifer was too pale and too tired-looking. He was shaking and sweating, eyes wide and darting all around him. His breathing seemed quick and laboured. Over all, he looked like he was about to pass out.

_Is it from the drugs you're always snorting or is it from staying up late because you're so busy sleeping with my ex-wife?_

"Sorry." Dan laughed, repeating the word as if it were some great insult, "Yeah, right."

"But I _am_ sorry, Daniel." Lucifer frowned, staring at him as if he couldn't understand Dan's anger, "I did not mean to bump into you. I just wanted to get out and-"

"Leave again?" Dan cut in, "Go to fucking "England"? Maybe pop back to Vegas this time?"

"P-pardon?"

Why was he stuttering so much? Why was he flinching at Dan's harsh tone? Why were his eyes alternating between being fixed on the ground or hesitantly looking at Dan's face, never meeting his own eyes for more than a few seconds at best? Dan had tried to avoid him the past few days, not wanting to beat the living daylights out of him and risk upsetting Chloe and Trixie. But he'd seen him talk and laugh. His laughter had echoed around the entire bullpen just yesterday. No stuttering and no acting like this.

Ugh. Whatever.

"Look, I don't know what the hell is up with you." Dan fumed, "I don't know if you get off on hurting people or something, Lucifer, but if you think that you can just stroll out and into people's lives like they're there for your personal entertainment, then that makes you an _asshole._ No wonder you hate yourself so much when literally everything you touch you ruin and-"

Lucifer gasped and ran. He'd looked increasingly horrified by Dan's rant, almost as if the words pained his very soul. His lips had wobbled and his eye had twitched and his fists had clenched and unclenched and he just...

He just _ran._

He turned on his heel and ran towards the stairs. No witty comebacks. No sarcasm. No bickering. No fighting. Straight from being frozen to speeding away.

Somehow, that made Dan even more angry.

"Dan?"

He turned around to see Chloe looking very worried, rushing over. Just how much had she heard? He knew her; she'd just jump into Lucifer's defence because that asshole got to do whatever he wanted with no consequences as usual and Chloe was somehow blind to it all.

"Is everything alright? Why did he run like that?" She asked, her eyes focused on the stair when she realized that she couldn't follow.

"Yeah." He shook his head, "Your stupid boyfriend just has the maturity of a two-year-old and the energy and behaviour to match."

"Don't call him stupid, Dan." She chastised, brow furrowed. Chloe turned towards the stairs. "What happened?"

"I don't know and I don't care." Dan huffed, "Lucifer just being Lucifer. Same bullshit as usual."

"Dan, look," Chloe sighed, "I know you've been going through a lot this last year, but Lucifer isn't... You can't just blame everything on him, Dan. That's not fair."

She gave him a disappointed look before hurrying away to follow Lucifer and whatever stupid weirdness he was up to this time.

Dan bristled.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Chloe had been beside herself with worry. Whatever that had been, it was not the typical Lucifer-ness that she had grown to love. (Well, more often than not)

She had tried to run after him, almost crashing into one of the poor preps who had appeared to be returning from a coffee run. Chloe could not even be bothered to yell out an apology. Lucifer did not just bolt away like that for nothing. On the contrary, he often found ways to avoid running (namely tossing things at whoever they were running after)

What was going on with him?

"Lucifer!"

By the time she reached the corner, only Dan had been there. She'd frowned, studying him. Had Dan said something to him? She levelled her ex-husband with a glare. Dan looked scandalized.  
  
Chloe could not care less. Concern bubbled up in her heart as she looked around her, unsure.

She'd looked for him downstairs, not finding a sign of him. An officer said that he'd just ran out to the street. Lucifer was not answering her phone. She'd given up and went back to the bullpen, trying her hardest to calm down.

Chloe frowned, heading in the direction of Ella's lab. She wanted to be away from everyone. She also wanted to think, to decide on what do next.

Should she check the Penthouse? Her own apartment?

Should she call Linda? Maze? Amenadiel? Would any of them even know anything?

"Hey, Ella." She said quietly, shutting the door to the lab behind her and pulling the blinds close for good measure.

Music, some old, upbeat tone that Chloe could not really identify, bled through the speakers. Ella's head bobbed to the music, humming along as she added a bright-coloured dye to a sample she had isolated.

"Hey, Ella." Chloe repeated a bit louder, wondering if the music could possibly contradict her current mood more. Was she overreacting?

"Chloe, hey!" Ella turned, putting the bottle down and rushing over to give her a hug. Her gloved hands, purple gloves this time, avoided making contact with Chloe's body. Yet, the hug somehow still felt splendid.

Typical Ella.

Chloe leaned into the hug a bit, grateful.

"Everything alright, Decker?" Ella asked, noticing immediately that something appeared to be off, because _of course_ she did.

"I..." Chloe avoided meeting her friend's eyes after they broke the abrupt Lopez hug off, biting her lip, "It's Lucifer."

"Oh?" Ella prompted, steering her over to one of the stools by her messy desk.

Chloe sat down, collecting her words.

"He..." She began, "He was whining about paperwork again, being, you know..."

"His usual self?"

"Yeah." Chloe smiled, "That. A lot of other officers were still coming around to greet him and welcome him back. It's hardly been a week since his return, y'know? Lucifer... Instead of basking in the attention and enjoying the spotlight like he always does, he looked... overwhelmed. Like he'd explode if anyone gave him another look. So, he excused himself to go get some fresh air, got up, and hurried away. Then he suddenly stopped, paled, and ran off. Dan was there apparently but he keeps saying that nothing happened. I mean he ran, Ella, bolted out of the bullpen like a..."

"Bat straight out of hell?"

"Ella!" She laughed in spite of herself, "Seriously! I'm... worried about him. He wouldn't answer his phone and he was perfectly alright a second before. Literally nothing happened and then all of a sudden..."

"Well, I guess you gotta talk to him." Ella sighed, "Poor dude looks so tired... I'm guessing the family issue that neither of you were willing to discuss-" she gave her a pointed look, "-must have really gotten to him. He probably just needs some time to adjust that's all. Talk to him?"

"I'll try." Chloe promised.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

  
Chloe managed to go by two days without saying anything, but only because Lucifer looked ready to run away any time she brought the issue up. The day when he'd ran out of the precinct, she'd just came home to find him chatting with Trixie as they baked a chocolate cake together.

Lucifer was not okay.

As a matter of fact, Lucifer was so far away from okay that she was doubting that she would ever be okay herself again.

How could she not have noticed?

For starters, Lucifer wasn’t sleeping.

Her first clue was the ever darkening bags under his soulful eyes. By now, they were darker than she had ever seen on a human, as black as shadows in the dead of the night. Lucifer used copious amount of concealer for them usually. At first, she wondered if this was maybe normal for him. After all, she hadn’t know just how intensive his morning routine was until very recently. However, he’d occasionally forgo concealing them, looking too tired or like he simply could not care less.

Clue number two.

The devil was vain; the vainest creature in all of creation. Recently however, he’d been occasionally skipping his three piece suits in favour of comfortable house-wear in the apartment. Like a normal person. He’d rarely wear a waist coat to work any more, which was concerning because she knew how much Lucifer loved that particular detail of his clothing.

He was always there, cuddling her to sleep. In the morning, or at least in the early hours of dawn when she began to brush the borders of consciousness before sinking back to sleep, he was there as well. Otherwise, he’d be either cooking them breakfast or doing something with Trixie.

Trixie!

Lucifer spent a lot of time with her now. Chloe’s camera roll was full of pictures of them together; drawing, playing, watching movies and shows, cooking, even going out to all sorts of fun places. Lucifer seemed to have become a hundred times more tolerant of Trixie. The only thing that he seemed to be less tolerant of in regards to her was touching.

As a matter of fact, the harder Chloe thought about it, the more that she came to the conclusion that she was the only person who was allowed to touch Lucifer.

Now, Lucifer had never been a fan of touches that weren’t of a sexual variation or pertaining a sexual variation. However, he never almost punched someone for slapping his back. He never dropped his coffee and jumped when Ella wrapped him in a hug. He never rushed to distract Trixie into not touching him quite as he was doing these days. 

On the other hand, when it came to her touch, Lucifer never seemed to get enough of it. He was glued to her side, basking in whatever affection she chose to give him. He’d look blessed every time she ran a hand through his dark hair, caressed his face, ran a hand down the length of his arm… But he… he never initiated touch.

The Detective tried her hardest to think, to recall every moment of the past two weeks that they’d spent together. Lucifer never hugged her. He never kissed her or touched her. He never approached her himself, always waiting for her to initiate physical contact. It couldn’t be though, right?

Lucifer… Lucifer was many things, but all these behaviours that were ringing alarm bells in her head… Was she being paranoid? Was everything just fine? Maybe she was making it up… creating problems?

But the fear she'd see in his eyes... The way he ran that day. How jumpy and skittish he was. 

Chloe wished that she was making things up.

She watched him cook them lunch one Saturday night, her mind whirring with the multitude of sad thoughts. She couldn’t seem to shake them off, regardless of how hard she tried. Was there a cosmic force that operated to ensure that their peace never lasted?

Lucifer dished out a plate with a perfect grilled cheese sandwich, her own request. She frowned when he handed her the plate and turned around to clean up whatever supplies had piled up on the counter.

“Aren’t you going to eat, babe?”

“Not hungry.” Lucifer replied distractedly, “Ate at LUX before I came here.”

Not hungry…?

Not hungry.

Lucifer Morningstar was not hungry.

“But you’re always hungry!” She giggled. It sounded wrong to her own ears though, a pit too rushed and too panicked to pass for a giggle.

“Am not!” Lucifer laughed, waving a spatula at her.

“Yeah, you are.”

Lucifer just laughed again, shaking his head and turning back to his self-assigned task.

As she sat and ate her lunch, the delicious all time favourite sandwich tasting like sandpaper in her mouth, Chloe’s mind continued to work furiously. Immanently, she realized that Lucifer had never… he hadn’t eaten.

She hadn’t seen him eat ever since he came here.

Chloe tried to remember, panic flooding through her system. It couldn’t be, right? He was the devil, but he’d told her than he still needed food. One time. A lifetime ago. In one of their lengthy stakeout chats. As far she knew, Lucifer needed more food than the average human, celestial metabolism and all that. He could survive longer without it, but… but.

No way.

The sandwich fell from her shaking hands, clattering onto the blue plate. She didn’t even see it, eyes fixed on her partner as he did whatever dishes that had piled up in the sink from before. He was humming to himself, seemingly lost in the task.

He’d grown thinner. She’d noticed of course. Everyone had. Lucifer had returned several sizes skinnier. If he hadn’t eaten anything since his return a month ago, then he must have lost more weight. However, he still looked the same as when she had found him.

Or did he?

While he was insistent on cooking for them, Lucifer never seemed to eat with them though. Something would always come up. A phone call, an important text message, banter with Trixie… Or something would be spilled or he’d have to rush somewhere.

The more she thought about it, Chloe was certain that she hadn’t seen him put anything in his mouth ever since he returned.

She was being silly. Chloe knew it. 

She got up and tried to talk to him, as slowly and as casually as she could manage. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin on his back. Lucifer let out a surprised huff, smiling before he relaxed into her. None of the usual tensing that she was used to from before hell accompanied their interactions any more. Lucifer would always tense and then relax. Always. It was like a reflex ingrained into him.

She could feel it though. He was skinnier. Much, much skinnier. His bones seemed to be more pronounced, the lean muscle that she had been so used to before replaced by what felt like paper-thin skin. She ran her hand from his hip to his shoulder, almost as if she had been smoothing a wrinkle in his maroon dress shirt and the motion had turned into a lover’s caress at some point. 

Chloe could barely contain a sob. Through the shirt, she could feel almost every one of his ribs, more pronounced than ever.

Lucifer startled.

He dropped the mug that he had been holding. It fell into the marble sink, shattering into what looked like a thousand pieces.

“Sorry!” Lucifer exclaimed, glaring at the sink.

His wands were always shaky. He never had shaky hands before either.

“No worries, babe.” She soothed, running patting his shoulder before leaning into him.

Not about stupid mugs anyway.

  
_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

She observed her partner, focusing on everything he did and did not do. The fact that he seemed to rarely swing by LUX any more, spending most of his time at her place, seemed to help.

He didn’t eat anything during the two days. He didn’t sleep either.

She’d pretended to be asleep each and every night for the past few days. Lucifer would stay with her for an hour or two, relaxed and happy in her embrace. Then, the moment that she felt him about to doze off, he would almost startle awake and disentangle himself from her arms. He’d stare at her before leaving the bed and going to sit in the living room or the kitchen. Sometimes, he would return at dawn and curl up next to her. Other times, he would just wait for Trixie to wake up or start cooking breakfast before either of the Deckers woke up.

On the third night, Chloe was almost certain she’d heard him cry. 

Her resolve had broken, collecting evidence and not alerting him to her plans be damned. Her eyes flew open and her hand found his chin, slowly lifting it. Lucifer gave a startled yelp, his arms around her tightening. He buried his face deeper in her shoulder and went dead quiet.

“Lucifer?” She ventured, stroking the side of his face, “Are you okay?”

For a while, she didn’t hear anything. She toyed with his hair and traced comforting patterns on his back, trying to remember if she had ever seen Lucifer sleep with a shirt on any time before his return. As far as she knew, Lucifer didn’t sleep with anything on.

Another problem.

They’d decided to take their relationship slow, both of them seemingly two broken for anything more than cuddles and light kissing. She’d feared that Lucifer would object, being… well, being Lucifer. But he hadn't. On the contrary, Lucifer seemed delighted by her request. He’d sagged into her arms, relishing in the hug that she’d given him that night. Was her happiness what prevented her from seeing what was right in front of her?

Lucifer had been suffering for two weeks and who knows how long before them. Something had happened. Yet, she’d been blinded by the relief of having him back and the joy of having him around with her, reunited in all the right ways at last.

How could she have been so selfish?

The tears came, silent and scalding. She buried her face in his hair, perturbed by his silence. Was Lucifer playing possum?

“Lucifer?”

No reply.

Chloe sighed, greatly troubled. She… she had to trust her instincts. It was the one thing that almost always worked for her. At the moment, her instincts were telling her that this was one devil who’d been broken beyond anyone’s imagination during his latest visit to hell.

What had happened to him?

Perhaps she had been mistaken in listening to him, to try and give him time. Perhaps the correct way to go was to force him to talk?

Okay, maybe not _force_ … Nobody ever forced him to do anything… But perhaps she should address the matter more…. Badger him, try her damn hardest to coax him into talking to her.

Of course, she’d imagined that Lucifer, being the King of Hell and all that, would not have suffered too greatly. Not the kind of suffering that was becoming apparent these past few days anyway. How could she be so wrong?

“Lucifer,” she whispered to the darkness, pressing a kiss to his hair, “we need to talk.”

Again, no response. Not even the twitch of a muscle.

Lucifer was not okay, not even by the more lenient Lucifer standards. That was the understandment of the millennium.

  
_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Chloe rolled out of bed, angry with herself for falling asleep.

The space beside her was cold, long uninhibited. She couldn’t smell breakfast or hear bickering. Sun light streamed through the window. Something was wrong.

Lucifer… where was he?

“I don’t know.” Trixie shrugged, focused on decimating her stack of pancakes, “He made breakfast and then left. He said that there’s some for you in the microwave, but that’s it. He wouldn’t tell me anything else, mommy. He looked really worried too.”

No.

“Is he okay?” Her daughter asked.

“Of course he is.” Chloe smiled, hoping to convince herself of the fact. Trixie seemed to be on in her reluctance, staring at her, head tilted to the side in a very Lucifer-like move. Adorable.

"I'm worried about him, monkey." She confessed taking a seat in front of the little girl.

"I'm a little worried too." Trixie assured her, whispering it loudly as if it were some sort of secret, "You'll talk to him and make him better?"

"That's the plan, baby." Chloe nodded.

"Good." Trixie smiled, returning her attention to her food, "I don't think he knows that you're supposed to let people you love make you feel better when you're sad. Funny enough, he also really, really hates being alone."

"That's true." Chloe laughed, biting her lip. Her wonderful, brilliant daughter.

"We'll him." Trixie continued, "That's what family is for and we're his family now so..."

Chloe felt better. Lighter.

She got up and hugged her daughter before moving to grab a mug of coffee, ways to start the much needed conversation with her beloved devil already swirling around in her head.

  
  



	3. Circus For A Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer had a rough time in hell. Chloe is very worried about him. Heaven also happens to be worried about him and his "illness".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all alright!
> 
> So, I'll be updating this every other day or so. Full-fledged season 5 au of sorts. Yay?
> 
> The title for this chapter is from the song "Circus For A Psycho" by the awesome band Skillet.
> 
>  **Trigger warnings:** Graphic depictions of violence, angst, and suicide ideation (technically), so PLEASE be safe and careful! Otherwise, enjoy!

**_A bit under 2 weeks before Chloe found Lucifer in the Penthouse..._ **

He had been staring at the stars for days.

He couldn't quite believe that the burst of light had carried him into his Penthouse. Lucifer had been shocked, expecting to land in the desert or get thrown into the middle of the ocean or something.

But the light had sent him here. Into his own porch. He'd been lying here, staring up, unable to move or do much of anything for... a day? Two? Lucifer didn't know. The appearances of his stars, the sun, and the moon seemed to blur together, falling to the background of everything that he had been going through.

Every time he closed his eyes, Lucifer remembered the pit.

_"Good day, isn't it, my king?" The mocking voice drawled._

_She stepped into the darkness, her cold hand tracing the sharp border of his right wing. The demon blade went it, sharp and efficient. Lucifer had no idea if he screamed or not. The part of him that was still concerned with pride and appearences dearily wished that he had remained silence. However, he mostly could not bring himself to care._

_Everything hurt._

_"G-great day!" He heard himself say, hoarse and weak but tinged with just enought sarcasm to be identified as such._

_"Ah, splendid!" She grinned, canines flashing in the blackness, "We're about to make it greater!"_

_Lucifer screamed._

_His cries of agony mixed in with the constant clattering of his chains and the continous disturbing symphony wrought on his body by various torture forms._

_Lucifer knew this part. It was the most merciful. Every fiber of his being was on fire, but he wished that it would never stop. When it stopped, they got bored. And when they got bored, they tossed him into the hell loop._

Lucifer gasped, startling awake against the onslaught of memories.

He lay there for about an hour, shivering and engaging in all manners of being pathetic. He hated this. He hated himself. No wonder he had gotten stuck being tortured by demons for millennia. No wonder that the poison was coursing through his body. No wonder that the Detective and everyone else hated him.

It was the least of what he deserved.

Lucifer was contemplating just staying here on the cold floor for the rest of eternity. Perhaps he would just die and spare everyone the hardship of having to deal with his presence? It wasn't fair. Even if he let himself go, he'd just end up in hell and-and...

Lucifer was selfish. He didn't want to go back to hell.

"Maybe I should!" He spoke out loud, laughing at the sound of his own voice, "Go back an'... an' suffer! For... everything. Yeah."

"You really shouldn't." A voice said, "You... you didn't deserve any of that, Sammy."

Lucifer groaned, glaring at the figure that was obstructing his view of the sun. Granted, Earth's sun wasn't his favourite star, but it was _something._

Better than all darkness and the cold and the blades and the endless torture and the visions of _her_ reminding him how much of a monster he is and her and the urchin dying and-and...

"Sammy," he sighed, "I need you to breathe for me."

"Go 'way." Lucifer panted, "You're not real. I don't see why I gotta get to'tured by _you_ of all people in my hallu... hall...hallc...?"

"Hallucinations." His brother supplied, "And for the millionth time, Sammy, I'm not a hallucination!"

"Exactly what a hall-something would say." Lucifer retorted, closing his eyes, hating the sight of his own face staring back at him, "Go 'way, Mikey. You're just a vision. Horrid one at that. The real Michael would've never helped me. The real Mikey is up in heaven laughing his royal ass off at me."

His brother said nothing. Lucifer felt himself move but he wasn't sure if he moved or not. Was he walking? Was he being carried? Perhaps he was motionless. He was so lost and confused; the lines of what is real and what is imaginary have never been more blurry.

Everything hurt. He was screaming and a voice was trying to reassure him.

He was on something cold and hard. Water was hailing down on him. It was cold then it was pleasantly hot. When had it started to rain?

Lucifer found the energy to crack his eyes open at some point, squinting in the fog.

"You shouldn't call me that!" He called out, talking to.. someone? Lucifer couldn't remember. His thoughts were too scattered. But this had to be said. "M'name's Lucifer now and I _love_ it!"

Especially when he imagined _the Detective_ saying it.

She said it in so many ways too. Loving and angry and hurt and confused and happy and joking and.. and... why were there so many emotions even? What had Dad been thinking?

Lucifer leaned back against the wet tiles, squirming away from the hands that he could feel on himself, cleaning him? Hurting him? Was it due for another round of torture?

Oh, who was he kidding?

It was _always_ time for another round of torture. That's what he got for allowing them to capture him. He was the devil. He should've been stronger. He should've stopped them sooner. He should've... He should've...

He groaned and whimpered, kicking at... someone? Were they cleaning his wounds or inflicting new ones on his body? It was all so confusing...

Ever since he managed to use his powers and make the light shine and escape, he could feel their hands on him.

The demons. The visages of his hell loops.

It never ended! Lucifer was half-certain that he was still stuck in some hell loop. Otherwise, none of this made sense.

He kept imagining seeing his twin brother although Michael-Holier-than-thou would never grace hell or even earth with his presence. He kept remembering his horrible stay in hell vividly; he could feel the chill in his bones, the knives slicing away at his skin to find muscle and bone, the whips tearing him apart... He could feel it _all._ One second he would be fine, suffering in peace, and the next he was back _there._

It made no sense.

Lucifer had no idea how many centuries he had spent in hell. However, he'd always prided himself on being resilient. It was the only reason he'd survived. Had they managed to torture his sanity away from him completely? Lucifer was ashamed. Deep down, he'd known that he was weak, but this... This was just a whole new level of pitiful. Even for him.

He tried to focus on what he was feeling at the moment and failed. Lucifer listened to the sound of the water dripping around him. He could hear the familiar voice of his brother but he couldn't understand what he was saying. He had no idea why he was remembering his twin so vividly; why he was seeing him everywhere he went and hearing his voice in the strangest of times. Lucifer supposed that it must have been because he'd used his light bringer powers to get out of hell. Those had always bonded him and his brother.

Partially why he mostly avoided them under normal circumstances.

But he'd had to use them. He'd had to get out.

_The light burned, exploding and shining in such a way that all demons in all parts of hell, vast as it was, saw it. All the souls felt it too._

_The devil screamed, agony tearing apart at his being. He had to get out. To use the light. To go. To escape._

_He managed to do so. None of the demons surrounding him lived to tell the tale._

_Not her especially._

He tried to discern which memory his mind was playing for him now. Memories, delusions, and real life present events were one and the same for him. He hoped that it was a pleasant memory of his brother at least.

Lucifer hadn't thought about the feathered prick in a long time. He might as well do so, seeing as he was tumbling into madness _and_ his demise. It wasn't like anyone would know. It wasn't like _Michael_ would know.

If his asshole of a brother could see him from his revered place up in the Silver City... Well, Lucifer couldn't care less. Everyone he cared about hated him. He was never going to see any of them again. His world could be summarized as pain and suffering.

Nothing mattered.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

The next time Lucifer woke up, he found himself in his own bed. He was laying atop of the covers and his wounds...

They hurt less.

Lucifer closed his eyes and sank back to his pillows, taking a mental inventory of his injuries. He could hardly remember feeling this well rested.

He could still feel lingering ache in many of his muscles. Some bones were definitely still fractured, but not as shattered as they had been before. He could still feel the poison though, leeching away at his energy and grace.

Ugh.

It took him an hour to muster the energy to get up. 

It took him another to will himself to move towards a mirror. 

Lucifer was still naked, most of his injuries and bruises on proud display. He reckoned that his escape had healed most of his wounds.

The most notable markings on his body...

Lucifer sighed, staring at himself morosely.

His new wing scars were worse than ever. They were probably infected, sighting the poison taking away his celestial abilities to heal. They were red, angry, and gaping; worse than they had ever been before. They pulsated with agony constantly, begging him to lessen it.

_"Oh, look!" She laughed, gleeful, "A new pair of wings grew in!"_

_Demons jeered. Lucifer trembled in spite of himself, knowing what was coming next. He should have been used to it. They'd cut them off more times than he could count. Lucifer should just... He should stop being weak._

_The problem was that they never chopped them off like he or Mazikeen used to do. Sometimes, they'd keep parts of them or stumps. Other times, they'd dig into the muscles of his back and cut those out too. Occasionally, they'd reach bone and Lucifer would... He'd just..._

Lucifer gasped, screwing his eyes shut against the painful onslaught of memories. He found himself trembling like a sheet, pale and spooked. This was happening more and more often. He kept remembering them. It was horrible.

Was it another side effect of the poison?

_"We have a surprise for you, your grace." She sing-songed, "Fresh from the bowels of your fiery kingdom! Except... Well, I guess it won't be yours after this."_

_Lucifer didn't care. He didn't want to rule hell! He'd told them so a trillion times. He'd told Dromos and his cronies. He'd told her. He'd told everyone! It wasn't his fault that only an angel could rule hell. It was his Father's design and his Father's idea of a punishment. Somehow, as usual, Lucifer was the one to suffer._

_"You're gonna love it!" She informed him, stroking his cheek._

_Lucifer's chains rattled. His shaking grew worse. In a distant corner of his mind, he recalled his lovely miracle, stroking his cheek. It was one of his best memories, the feel of her nimble fingers on his skin... She'd kissed him to._

_"Open your mouth, my lord." She ordered, tracing his lips with of her freezing fingers, "Don't make me open it for you." She warned, giggling, "Perhaps we ought to cut away your lips too..."_

_Lucifer spaced out. He couldn't hear her. They'd cut his wings just a short while earlier and it had **hurt.** It had been the worst time yet. He had no idea how they'd managed to wake him up._

_He felt them forcing his mouth open. His face was hurting. Something was being poured down his throat. It was black and thick, burning his very soul as it went down._

_"There's a good pet." She praised, slapping his back, somehow managing to hit both new injuries and the thousand whip marks, making them light up with renewed pain, "Drink up for a new era!"_

A new era... Lucifer scoffed.

He stared at his refection, biting his lip.

The thick, black tendrils covered most of his left side. They started from his heart, extending in spider-web like cracks along his skin. The skin around them was pale and dark; sickly and paper-thin. The poison had been latching away at him for who knows how long.

If he had to guess, Lucifer would say that he was mostly human at the moment; no need for _the Detective_ to be there. His wings had grown back either. He was much skinnier. Weaker. Frailer. Lucifer stared at himself for a long time, noting how the dark lines seemed to extend. 

The more they spread, the more of his power that she would have. She already had enough to be the new Queen of Hell as far as he knew. Lucifer didn't care. Hell could go screw itself. He'd never wanted a throne or a crown.

_All I ever wanted was to be my own man, to make my own choices out of my own free will._

She wanted him dead though. She'd made him into hell's play thing; tortured him for centuries on end, gave all sorts of demons turns to toy with him. They'd all loathed him anyways. They were all so eager; so happy. Dromos had sullied his name with talks about humans and constant vacations. _She_ had destroyed the rest.

No one came for him of course.

Lucifer hadn't prayed for any of them. He'd long since learned that they would never reply much less actually help. If he had to suffer for all of eternity, then he wanted to spare himself suffering through the humiliation of rediscovering that none of them loved him or cared for him.

"Mike..." He whispered, looking around as if he could somehow find his twin.

It was a ridiculous venture. He knew as much. Michael would never come down here much less come down here to save him or take care of him. In the deepest, darkest corner of his mind, Lucifer was willing to admit that had been nice. An odd delusion no doubt, but better than seeing the Detective crying the first few days when he'd returned to earth.

He was dying.

Lucifer had used up the last of his power to get out.

_Lucifer reached into the core of his energy; of all his power. He focused and he tried his damn hardest, working furiously to beat the poison that was trying to take control of it._

_Whatever it had been, it was dangerous. It was foreign and strange; monstrous in all what it was. It was creeping deep into him. Somehow, it was providing her with his grace, technically transforming her into an angel? Lucifer didn't know. It was all blurry._

_Eventually, he realized that he had no hope of completely beating off the alien substance. He'd decided to escape then; to go see his Detective one last time. He was dying and there was no way out. He'd like to see her one last time please. Just... just see her. He didn't even have to talk to her._

_If there was one thing that his stays in that hell loop had taught him, it was how much the Detective hated him. How much he had hurt her. How much he had hurt everyone around him._

_But he was selfish and he was dying. Surely, he could just look at her from afar? Go talk to her even if she kicks him out and banishes him from her life forever?_

_It was worth a shot._

_Lucifer began to work tirelessly, accessing parts of him that he had not used in millennia. The poison was making his mission simultaneously easier and harder._

_When the bright light had erupted and the white portal had sprang into life, Lucifer had been about to pass out. There were enormous gaps in his memories from that time. Large blank spaces, tinged with just the barest hints of jumbled pictures and unclear voices._

Lucifer didn't want to know what he had missed. As a matter of fact, he didn't care. They'd died and hell was sealed to all demons. Sounded good enough for him. He had about a month or two to live. He'd healed himself enough for that. After that...

Perhaps he'd end up like Uriel. It was what the poison seemed most likely to do, right? He was human at the moment but it was still going, destroying the energy that kept him alive, wrecking every aspect of his life.

Ha. His life.

As far as he cared, he was going to try his hardest to feel a bit better. Just better enough to go see the Detective for one last time. Then, he could wallow away in some ditch on the side of the highway.

Lucifer was beyond tired. Of everything. The ending for the cosmic joke that was his life was probably the one mercy that he was ever going to be blessed with from his loving, caring Father.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer was, for the lack of a better term, horrified.

Something was wrong with him. 

Well, a _lot_ of things were wrong with him, but this was different. He couldn't sleep; nightmares and horrible memories from his long life made sure of that. He'd bolted upright several times in the past week, convinced that he was back in hell. When he managed to breathe again, it would take him a ridiculously long time to calm down.

He couldn't eat or drink; the one time he had made himself a simple meal of Mac and Cheese, largely because it reminded him of the Detective and her silly love of it and because he had most of the ingredients in his cupboards, he'd spent hours throwing it up. Lucifer shuddered, recalling the considerable amount of time that he had spent on the bathroom floor, clutching his aching abdomen as his stomach spasmed and he kept retching. 

Lucifer hadn't touched food since then.

The problem was that taking a sip from one of his all time favourite scotch brands had had the exact same effect on him.

Oh well... No food or drink for the remaining few weeks he had. 

It hurt for a while though, his stomach constantly growling at him, ignorant as it was of his dilemma. Lucifer had learnt to tune it out. Hunger was _nothing._ He'd been through much worse. He had no time to be weak.

Lucifer spent most of his time staring off into space, fighting off the onslaught of damaging memories, and trying his hardest to walk from one corner of his spacing living room to the next without stumbling or passing out. It wouldn't do to keel over at the Detective's house anyways. Lucifer did not want to worry her.

It took some time, but he managed to walk around, talk out loud, _and_ learn to ease up on using his left arm. The poison tendrils had spread down it, just to middle of his upper arm. It seemed to stop there, but it caused him sizzling pain any time he tried to use it. Eventually, he would learn to ignore that ache too.

He was not perfect but he was better; functioning at the very least.

Lucifer did some research and found out that it was a Friday night; a bit over six months since he'd left and maybe a week or two since he'd returned. The Penthouse had remained abandoned. LUX was still in business though. Thankfully. He supposed he could give the club to Maze once he died or maybe even Eve if he ever saw her again. Lucifer made a mental note to add that to his will.

He figured that the Detective was probably busy during the day. Night time was the time that she was free; she'd always be at home with her spawn or simply reading a book or watching television. Occasionally, she'd go on a tribe night. Hopefully, that wasn't tonighy. Lucifer did not want to risk going to her house and finding it empty. He doubted that he could take it, fragile as he sanity was at the moment.

He waited painfully until about 4 p.m before heading off to shower.

Lucifer spent an obscene amount of time in his shower, abusing the privilege or his superior water heater and the comfort of the lavish design of every part of his Penthouse. He'd spent so long designing it with Maze all that time ago...

After he emerged, he shaved and groomed himself for a while, finding that he'd missed his vast collections of conditioners, creams, skin care products, and who knows what else. He applied some make-up too, lessening the darkness under his tired eyes and giving his face a slightly healthier pallor. Bit by bit, he began to feel more like himself. Lucifer smiled, trying to ignore the memories of the Detective playing on repeat in his mind.

How could he convince himself that it wasn't her?

_"Lucifer, I'm going to need you to leave." She trembled, hugging the urchin to her chest. Both of them were crying, looking beyond horrified and ready to run away._

_"You're scary." The urchin wept, "You're a monster!"_

Lucifer closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath, his fingers curling around the edge of the sink. They... it didn't sound like them. Not like how they'd speak anyway.

He was still trying to convince himself that they'd never say something like that to him.

_"You left me." The Detective accused, "I-I told you that I loved you... I begged you to stay, Lucifer, and all you did was leave..."_

He didn't think that that room in the pit was a hell loop. Not a regular one anyways. Lucifer was sure that it was something more; something designed to abuse his worst fears, his most painful of memories, his deepest insecurities... He wished it was just his guilt.

_"I'm sorry!" He cried, chasing after Uriel._

_"Oh, no, I am sorry, brother." Uriel shook his head, backing away, leaving, fading into nothingness._

_Lucifer had wished he could follow._

Of course, he'd always known that most demons hated him. He was angel sent to rule over them; his assentation to the throne had not been some easy picnic. There had been wars and there had been battles waged. He'd won over the respect of demons and he'd used fear and power to keep them in line.

It would only make sense for them to hate him. After all, Lucifer hated himself. He could totally relate.

But what had happened...

Lucifer fell to his knees, the memories strong and merciless. He pressed his back to the cold tile behind him, trying to ground himself. This illness was just the cherry on top of the shit cake that was his life. Sweet.

He didn't understand it.

Lucifer spent some time there on the floor, knees hugged to his chest, rocking back and forth. For reasons he could not fathom, the movement soothed him. It made it a bit easier for him to not slip into the endless onslaught of flashbacks and torturous thoughts.

Tonight, he'd talk to the Detective and then... She'd send him away -exactly like he deserved, mind you- and he'd... well, Lucifer hadn't thought that far ahead yet.

It wasn't like he had a lot of time to need to fill anyways.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

It had been three days since the Detective had found him and Lucifer was living in constant terror of this being some sort of new form of torture.

When it all fades away and he finds himself back in the Pit... Lucifer could not bear to think of it.

He spent every day with the Detective and he spent every night curled up next to her, trying his hardest to stay awake. Constantly putting up the façade of being perfectly fine was exhausting but it was worth it. As far as he understood, loving someone entailed worrying over them. The Detective and the spawn kept assuring him that they loved him, surprising him with that declaration in the oddest of times. Imagine burdening them with worry...

He... this was more like heaven that his previous home had ever been. 

This odd sort of domesticity that he had settled into... All the cuddling and the cooking and the games... If he let himself think about it for too long, Lucifer would burst into tears.

Sadly, the Detective's presence and this new lifestyle had not completely cured him of his new found pitifulness. She made his recurrent attacks of painful memories and the odd ways reality warped around him, sending him back to hell in his own mind better. She made everything better.

A literal miracle. His Dad's best creation. The best thing that had ever happened to him.

Lucifer was the happiest that he could ever remember. 

While it was the true that he was dying and that there were more wrong things with him that he could count or begin to understand, being with the Detective was the only cure that he could ever need.

She was perfect and she was accepting him.

Perhaps this was the price that he had to pay in exchange for her love. Perhaps his Dad demanded this of him in return for these blissful hours spent with the Detective and the spawn.

If so, Lucifer was mostly certain that he would go through the Pit again and again. If it meant that he could be theirs, then he was prepared to do anything and everything.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

It had been a week.

An _entire_ week spent with the Deckers. Lucifer was almost certain that it was real; not some sort of delusion or a new form of torture that the demons had came up with. Even if it was, Lucifer didn't care. He was far too _happy_ to care.

Yup. Him. Happy. Finally!

He still couldn't eat or drink or sleep. The odd flashbacks kept assaulting him for the weirdest of reasons. He was sad at times and stressed at others but he was... happy.

The Detective wasn't even onto him. He hadn't anything to eat all week, minus that cup of coffee at the precinct. But Miss Lopez had gotten it for him and he'd needed to confirm whether or not what had happened the last time he'd eaten was a one time thing or not.

Turns out, it hadn't been a one time thing at all.

He'd sighted a problem at LUX and excused himself. It wasn't a lie technically; he was having a problem and he was heading to LUX. Well, sort of.

The poison continued to spread. As much as Lucifer hated to admit it, it scared him. Soon enough, he wouldn't be able to move his arm at all. Afterwards...

The Detective made everything better and easier though. It was more than he could ask for. He didn't want anyone to fuss over him or pat his back. He'd cancelled his sessions with Linda just for this! Lucifer just want to spend his last days in the company of his Deckers, surprising as that was. It made him hate himself more. Was he hurting them? Perhaps he'd hurt them enough so that this time did not matter?

Ugh.

It wasn't like they couldn't live without him. Perhaps they'd be sad for a few hours and then they'd move on with their lives, free of him at last.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Later that day, Chloe found herself nervously chewing on her bottom lip as the elevator went up on the neverending trek to the Penthouse.

It was almost funny; the sheer number of memories and incidents and fights and reconciliations in her life that begun or ended by a trip in this particular elevator.

The talk that she was about to have with Lucifer was… challenging at the very least. To say that she was worried about the outcome would have been an understatement. Her boyfriend was… fragile, for the lack of a better word. On his good day, an emotional talk would have sent him into some sort of panic or despair. Best case scenario was that he would run. Worst case scenario… Oh well.

Lucifer was clearly far from his best. Something was going on with him. She’d been blind to it, wrapped up in her own little fantasy and joy at having him back. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late. They’d talk and they’d figure out the best strategy to deal with this. They’d find the best way to help him.

She rushed through the elevator the moment thr doors were wide enough, bumping into the one person that had been occupying her thoughts for most of the time.

“Hey.” She mumbled when they broke away, “I-I was just here to see you.”

“And I you, Detective.” He gulped, looking away, “I was on my way to your apartment. Apologies for leaving like that in the morning.”

“No need to be sorry.” She waved it off, “Was it because of what I said last night?”

“Last night?” He frowned, trying to go for ignorant.

“Lucifer...”

He just sighed and looked away again.

“Maybe we should sit down for this?” She suggested. 

Lucifer just stared at her for the longest time, eyes flying between her face and the elevator behind her. She let him. Eventually, he seemed to nod, submissive and greatly burdened. She gave him a small smile and took his hand in hers, leading him to the couch with as much gentleness as she could muster.

They sat down together, close and then just the tiniest bit apart. She began by giving him a hug, her chin resting on his shoulder, and her face hidden.

“Lucifer?” She whispered, “I love you.”

“And… I you, Detective. Always.” He sounded bewildered and confused, his arms raising to wrap around her.

“We do need to talk though.”

“Detective...” He sighed again, “Must we now?”

“I’m worried about you.” She pulled away, her hands reaching up to cup his face, gently turning him to look her in the eye.

“You shouldn’t be.” He stated.

“What happened?” She gulped, struggling to find her words, “In hell. What happened to you, Lucifer?”

“Demons being demons.” He answered after a long time, giving her the most miniscule grin that she had ever seen, “But I’m back now. Here, with you, darling. The rest is… inconsequential.”

But it wasn’t “inconsequential”. Of course it wasn’t. How could she convince him of that though?

“You’re not eating, babe. You’re not sleeping either. You… you act weird a lot of the time. You’re more touch-averse than you’ve ever been and sometimes… you’re so far away. You just stare off into space, Lucifer, and you get this look in your eyes and I… I’m sorry that I hadn’t noticed all of these earlier. I just want to help you.”

“There’s nothing for you to help with.” Lucifer replied shortly.

“Nothing for me to help with?” She bristled, her hands leaving his face as fire ignited in her eyes, “Haven’t you heard a word I just said?”

“Devils don’t need as much sleep as humans.”

“They need more food though.” She countered, “You don’t lie, Lucifer. I know you. So, go on. Tell me that you’ve sat down and eaten one entire meal ever since your return and I’ll shut up about this.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Lucifer.” She warned, “Just answer the question.”

“I have.”

“And you didn’t… I don’t know. Throw up or something like that afterwards? Did you eat like you normally would, I mean? Nothing weird?”

Lucifer didn’t say anything, his eyes downcast and his lips thin.

Oh, her poor devil…

“Talk to me, Lucifer.” She pleaded, anger vanishing and concern taking over, “Please.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He persisted, “It’s just… Nothing you can help with, Detective. Nothing that you’re not already helping with. Everything is fine.”

“Take off your shirt then.” Chloe challenged, hands crossed.

“Pardon?”

“Exactly!” She scoffed, “You’re Lucifer Morningstar. I’ve seen you naked several times for no reason other than the fact that you love wandering around naked and stripping every chance, Lucifer. But ever since you returned, I haven’t even seen you with your damn shirt off despite sleeping in the same bed every night. What’s that all about?”

“I-I...” Lucifer sputtered, suddenly looking like a cornered animal, “Detective, first it was with the bloody meals and now with the clothing. I just...”

“Take it off then, Lucifer.” She told him, running a hand down his arm, pausing when he flinched, “Never thought I’d see the day where I’d be begging you to take your clothes off...”

He didn’t even crack a grin at her attempt at humour or grasp the clear chance at innuendo. Lucifer just continued to struggle with her words, looking as though he was about to bolt away any second. Her touch seemed to ground him. Lucifer’s eyes drifted to her hand stroking his own and lingered. Encouraged, she resumed her gentle caresses, mentally pleading him to just cave in and answer her.

What was going on with him? What was hidden under his shirt that had him this weary of taking it off? Scars? Something related to his devil form? Some new injury? Injuries?

“I-I can’t.” Lucifer breathed, “Detective, please. I just… I can’t. Don’t make me.”

“Lucifer, I can’t make you do anything.” She comforted, almost failing to get the words past the prominent lump in her throat, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I just want to help becau-”

“You can’t help me!” He suddenly roared, jumping off the couch, eyes glowing a vibrant red, “You can’t help me, Detective.” He repeated, voice a bit lower, beginning to pace in the darkned Penthouse, “No one can.”

“I can help.” A voice said from the darkness towards his porch.

Lucifer startled and whipped around, body sliding into a fighting stance. Her hand flew to her hip, fingers tightening around the cool, dark metal of her gun.

The figure stepped out of the shadows, wings of the purest black vanishing out of existence behind him. His white eyes seemed to glow from the distance.

Chloe's breath hitched in her throat. She stared at their intruder, mind whirring. Was this...? What the...?

"Michael." Lucifer bristled, looking ready to attack.

"Sammy." The other man nodded, stepping forward and tucking his wings away.

Michael. _The_ Michael. He was her boyfriend's brother. Of course he was. Apparently, they were twins as well.

Splendid.

"Do not call me that!" Lucifer glared, "Are... Detective?" He turned to her, anger melting away to complete loss and utter confusion written in every line of his haggard face, "Y-you can see him too, I gather?"

She nodded, trying her hardest to focus. The implications behind Lucifer's words... See him? Had he been seeing stuff?

"I'm not imaginary." Michael sighed, "As I've told you a thousand times several weeks ago, brother."

"I'm not your brother!" Lucifer seethed, crossing his arms over his chest, moving to stand in front of her, "What do you want from me?"

"To help." Michael answered shortly. Simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"To help?" Lucifer echoed, bursting into laughter, "Oh, you're still _hilarious._ "

"And you're still _dying_." Michael retorted in the same tone, taking the same posture.

"Dying?" She spoke up, finding it in her to get up off the couch.

"Hello, human." Michael greeted, nodding, "Be not afraid."

"I have a name." She stated, her dislike for the archangel already palpable, "Chloe Decker. I'm _not_ afraid. Just... I've heard a lot about you."

"All good things I hope?" Michael grinned and he looked so Lucifer that she had to blink because... wow.

"Far from it." She replied. She hadn't heard much about Michael himself. Lucifer had never spoken about him unless that time he told them about his first star counted. However, he'd already told her about how everyone always left. How none of them helped or talked to him. All those remarks and all those small things she had managed to gather from various cases... It seemed more than enough.

"Lucifer?" She turned to him, finding him lost in thought, glaring at his brother. This was unlike him too; Lucifer would've already punched the guy or something. Did the Sword of God really need to crash her conversation with her boyfriend?

"Yes, love?"

"What is he talking about?" She asked, gulping, "Dying?"

"It's-"

"I suppose taking your shirt off, as Chloe Decker demanded, would be a good first step, brother."

"Is everyone in my family a bloody stalker?" Lucifer fumed, beginning to pace.

"I am not stalking you." Michael informed him, stating it as simple fact, "I only wish to offer you assistance."

"Offer me assistance?" Lucifer gaped, whipping around, "If any of you desired to offer me help, it would have been eons ago! You all left me. Abandoned me. And now you just waltz back into my life because you want to _help?_ What changed now, _brother_?"

"Your anger is unwarranted." Michael informed him again, in that annoying monotone that seemed to be his usual manner of speech, "Calm yourself, Sammy."

"Do not call me that!" Lucifer's eyes flashed red again.

"You must stop it with these ridiculous displays of wrath." Michael rolled his eyes, "Samael is your God-given name. Sammy is what I have called you all our lives."

"Ridiculous displays of wrath?" Chloe echoed before Lucifer could, scoffing, "I think Lucifer's anger is _incredibly_ warranted. You've done nothing to deserve better than his anger. Actually, you're lucky that he's just yelling at you. He goes by whatever name he wants. If he wants to be called Lucifer, then you should respect that and stop holding on to some vision of the past that you still think is reality. Things change. _People_ change."

Both brothers were giving her identical looks of confusion. Michael shared Lucifer's adorable habit of tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. However, although he had the exact same features and the exact same motion, the look was wrong on him. 

She turned to Lucifer, giving him a small smile. The awe in his face made her heart ache, renewing the constant worry she had for him.

"Chloe Decker, you have no right to speak to me in such a manner." Michael declared, "I am Michael, Sword of-"

"She speaks to you in whatever manner she desires." Lucifer cut in, "Not that either of us are obliged to talk to you. You need to leave now, _brother._ "

The venom Lucifer put into uttering the syllables of the word "brother" sent shivers down her spine. It held so much hatred. So much spite. So much pain.

"I am here to help you." Michael repeated, patient, almost as though he was used to Lucifer's stubbornness or stupidity.

"Again, you've never helped before." Lucifer growled, "None of you did. You were perfectly fine not interfering for the past couple of thousand years. What changed now?"

Michael sighed. His eye twitched, the only sign betraying his annoyance and discomfort.

"It is the will of God." He declared at last, "The events which have taken place and those currently-"

" _Dad_ put you up to this?" Lucifer shook his head in disbelief, "As if _He_ would ever help me."

"God has offered you help countless times before." Michael narrowed his eyes, "Stop being ungrateful."

"I'm being ungrateful?" Lucifer's eyes shone red, "What sort of help does tossing me into hell count as?"

"You earned your punishment."

"What kind of lie is that?" Lucifer growled furious, "I have done nothing to deserve _that._ This is all His fault. _Your_ bloody fault. I can't even-"

"Stop it with your poisonous words." Michael ordered, hand tightening around the sword hooked to his belt.

"Why? Am I upsetting Daddy's perfect little soldier?" Lucifer gibed.

"You need to-"

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE!" Lucifer roared, "You need to take your lies and your ridiculous orders and leave my home this instance! I've had enough of you and your- your-"

Lucifer's eyes turned into black, obsidian vapor swirling around them. He gasped, a hand flying to his chest. Lucifer seemed to pause for a moment before his eyes returned to normal. They rolled to the back of his head and the devil promptly passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of plot... Some angst... Thoughts?
> 
> Because these are REALLY fun:  
>  if you ever wanna hang out on twitter: https://twitter.com/NerdQueen777?s=09  
> Or Tumblr: https://sk-kasai-my-world.tumblr.com/
> 
> Stay safe. Await season 5 news (Ha!)...


	4. Lay Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: "Lay Me Down" by Sam Smith.
> 
> Thanks for all your awesome comments, kudos, and everything!
> 
> Please be careful to check the tags. Things like torture, graphic depictions of violence, PTSD, panic attacks and so are mentioned.

"I had no idea angels could lose quite so much mass." Michael commented, leaning down by his brother. He pushed Lucifer's hair away from his face, tilting his head in search of something that Chloe didn't exactly know. Like some sort of experienced doctor, Michael pried one of his brother's eyes open, nodding when he found it a normal, chocolate brown.

He picked up Lucifer, bridal-style, moving him towards the bed with ease. Chloe got up, wondering if she should have prevented him from doing so. She didn't want him closer to Lucifer than absolutely necessary. She could already imagine Lucifer's mortification if he ever knew that Michael had carried him to his bed and tucked him in. It wasn't like _she_ could hope to move her boyfriend though. Another drawback of normal, human strength in the face of insane celestial ones.

Besides, Lucifer was sick... Lucifer was _dying._ There was no time for petiness. 

She watched Michael lift his brother's legs to the bed, fussing over him, a crinkle in his brow, something soft and tender in his eyes. It made no sense to her. There he was, acting the part of a concerned mother hen, when he had been insulting his brother and goading him just a few minutes ago.

Maybe all angels had mind-boggling communication issues.

She shook herself out of her stupor, hurrying towards the bed herself. Michael seemed to stop, as though he just remembered her presence. He cleared his throat and stepped away from his brother, hands clasped behind his back and mouth set in a grim line. He watched her settle by Lucifer's hip, running her fingers over the lines of his face and carding a hand through his messy hair.

Lucifer had not been styling his hair all that much either in recent days, leaving it a glorious mess of thick curls. It was another thing that had worried her, despite how much she loved playing with it and teasing him about it.

Lucifer _hated_ his curls. She only found them adorable, much to her lover's indignation. 

"You truly care for my brother, yes?" Michael said, perplexed.

She turned to him, finding him still watching her and Lucifer.

"I love him." She answered, stating it like a fact, almost daring him to say something or protest.

Michael just nodded. "He is lucky to have you." He smiled, a bit sad, "My brother needs some love. Even if it is at the hands of a human."

At the hands of a human?

Wow.

And they'd all thought that _Lucifer_ was rude. She should find a way to put Dan and Michael in the same room, or maybe Dan, Michael, _and_ Lucifer. The possibilities... 

"Why do you act like you care about him the minute he can't see it?"

"I always care about him." Michael confessed, eyes far away, about as uncomfortable as she could imagine a person being.

"You kind of do a shitty job at showing it though."

"That... is another matter entirely." Michael sighed, "I am here to help him, for the millionth time."

"But why?" She asked, her hands still playing with her boyfriend's hair, soothing him through whatever this slumber was, "You've never helped him before."

"You are as stubborn as my brother." Michael frowned, "As ignorant as well. What a formidable match."

"Formidable." She snorted, "Something like that. Yeah. Beware, _your grace._ "

"More like headache-inducing, I suppose." Michael amended, "All that sass and sarcasm." He shuddered before his face lit up just the tiniest bit, "Is he still fond of those _ridiculous_ puns of his?" He asked in a low voice, almost embarrassed by the question but too eager to care.

"More than you can imagine." She smiled, fondness filling her eyes. It felt wrong though, to discuss her partner like this with his estranged brother of all people. It wasn't like Michael deserved to ask questions like those and reminisce about the past. Not when he was the one to deliberately shatter the present and forever alter the future. Lucifer would've hated this. "Do you know why he passed out?" She asked, her concern wearing off just enough to allow room for a logical line of thinking and the start of the application of her superb problem-solving skills.

"The poison, I would imagine." Michael sighed, whatever spark that had glistened in his eyes vanishing without a trace.

"Poison?"

Michael crept closer, tugging at Lucifer's shirt. Almost all of pristine buttons popped out and the fabric was yanked away to reveal the massacre that was the devil's chest.

Chloe gasped, trying to calm down.

It... It looked bad. Beyond bad. It was an entire new level of catastrophic just splayed there on his chest. The vein like meshwork of dark, viny, never-ending blackness... His pale, paper-thin skin, entirely horrific in contract with the dark tendrils of poison... The way it appeared to creep from an epicenter of sorts in the middle of his chest, just to the left a bit, right where his heart is...

It unsettled something deep within her. Staring at it made her want to scream. There was something... vile about it. Evil. Rotten. _Monstrous._

Chloe wanted to throw up.

"It is what has caused most of the symptoms of illness that you have been observing." Michael informed her, his white eyes somehow darker now that he was staring at the same mess that was destroying her on the inside, "It is what's killing him; what is seeping away at his grace. They are deploying its usage it to-"

"Lucifer really loved this shirt." She cut in, eyes meeting Michael's.

"Pardon me?"

"This shirt." She clarified, stroking the red fabric with her free hand and resuming her ministrations to her partner's scalp with the others, "Why did you ruin it like that?"

"Ruin it like..." Michael echoed, flummoxed, "I do not understand how his choice of attire is significant in the light of what I am attempting to reveal to you, Chloe Decker. The poison is-"

"I don't want to know." She stated.

"You…?" Michael scoffed, "I am entrusting you to care for my brother in my absence! Any information that you can acquire is essential for aiding him. Hiding and running away from this reality, horrid and disastrous as it is, is cowardly. I did not take you for a coward, Chloe Decker."

"I'm not a coward." She shook her head, "I'm not hiding either. My topmost concern is helping Lucifer. That's why I was here tonight, before you rudely interrupted us any way." 

She ignored the rest of his remarks, not feeling up to battling angelic egos. She had more pressing matters at hand.

"Well, then, you need to know that Lilith is the one who-"

"Michael, I don't want to know." She cut in.

"I do not follow." Michael frowned, giving her a funny look, "Why are you being so contradictory? So paradoxical? Are all humans this impractical to deal with?"

"Impractical." She snorted, " _Lucifer_ will tell me about whatever happened to him in hell. I don't want to hear it from anyone else."

"But I thought you claimed to know my brother; to love him."

"I do." Chloe confirmed, wondering where this is going.

"Then unless he's changed in this regard too, which I _highly_ doubt, attempting to get information from my brother regarding what might be ailing him or causing him true agony is, as you humans would say, akin to pulling teeth."

"That hasn't changed." Chloe informed him, smiling fondly again despite how this particular characteristic of Lucifer was one of her least favourites.

He was willing to endlessly whine over something like a papercut. However, when it came to serious matters, like poisonous, magical goo killing him or demons torturing him to near-breaking point, Lucifer was as tight-lipped as can be. He preferred to ignore the problem or hide, pretending that everything was fine and refusing any help from anyone, making every possible _wrong_ decision in every possible situation relating to said matter.

She loved him though and that meant being patient with him. She knew that he'd do the same, if not more, for her.

"I do not understand then." Michael shook his head, still lingering by the bed, unmoving and tall, like some sort of imposing, regal sculpture, "Would you not prefer to hear it from me instead of suffering through arguing with him _and_ hardly getting anywhere?"

"Lucifer will tell me on his own terms." She tried to explain, reminding herself that Lucifer and Michael were, for all intents and purposes, a different species. Different as in clueless about most positive things in the emotional spectrum. "It's his choice. Telling me about what happened to him. I can't just get you to explain what he's been through and ignore what he wants or doesn't want."

"Your words make _absolutely_ no sense."

"Thank you." She grinned, "Can't you... Is there some sort of magic celestial cure for whatever this is? An antidote?" She asked after a moment of tense silence.

"I am endeavouring to find it." Michael pursed his lips, "I have failed. In the previous three weeks or so in your Earth time, I have attempted to seek a solution for my brother's illness from every corner I could think of. It was all to no avail."

Ah, of course. Why would anything be easy?

"I will continue searching." Michael assured her, "I have also asked our sister, Raphael, the Healer, for her aid."

"Thank you." Chloe nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. "Is he in pain?" She asked, _knowing_ that her question was stupid.

Of course he was in pain.

He wasn't sleeping or eating. The touch of most people sent him running away, beyond horrified. He was tired. He was suffering. He was _dying._

Even now as he lay on the bed beside her, his face was scrunched up in discomfort bordering on pain. He whimpered every few minutes, muscles twitching and eyes darting under their sockets. Was he dreaming or was he just in pain from the venom in his body? It was probably both. Her efforts to comfort him and ease his pain seemed pathetic.

Michael didn't say anything, studying his brother.

"If he... died, he'd just go back to hell?" Chloe wondered, a stab of fear piercing her heart, "To... to whatever hurt him this bad?"

"I wish." Michael shook his head and if she wasn't mistaken, Chloe saw _fear_ in his eyes. Like any emotion that managed to slip by Michael's defences and express itself through his eyes, it was gone in the fraction of a second. "I need to discuss this further with you both."

Another second and Michael's dark wings popped into view. He was gone in a flutter of feathers, looking grim. Chloe just stared at the spot that he had just vacated before turning to her boyfriend with a sigh.

All angels apparently had issues with proper goodbyes too.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

_He was tired, so very tired, but he had to go on._

_Lucifer knew as much._

_An image lingered in the back of his mind, propelling him forward in his struggle and urging him to keep holding on. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was crucial._

_The bluest eyes he'd ever came across... Long, blonde hair that was tucked into a too-tight ponytail too often... A soft smile... An odd laugh..._

_"Not like a demented witch on crack!"_

_Oh, that was funny. Who said that? Was it the important woman?_

_Lucifer had no clue. He just wanted to sleep, with the preferable option of never waking up again._

_"You are still strong, my lord." She drawled, something hot and wet trailing across his face, "Oh, you practically taste of it."_

_He cracked his eyes open. Her tongue. Ew. Lucifer had nothing against tongue action. As a matter of fact, he usually loved it. But she was... Ugh. He didn't think that he could tolerate anyone touching him ever again if he ever got out of the Pit._

_"So, so strong." She grinned, pressing a kiss to his temple._

_He wasn't strong though._

_He was weak. He was pathetic. He was a disgrace to everyone. A burden. A monster._

_Had he been strong, the demons wouldn't have imprisoned him._

_Had he been strong, he would've found a way to stay home in LA. None of this would've happened. The Detective wouldn't have cried._

_The Detective!_

_She was the woman with the sapphire eyes and the most warm of hugs that always occupied his thoughts._

_"You're not so talkative, huh?" She sighed, "How you're fighting the poison alone is miraculous, you know? But you're no fun like this!"_

_Lucifer grunted, eyes snapping shut again._

_He could see golden lights and glittery confetti cascading all around him. There was music, some horrible song that he... why did he have it on exactly? He was moving, dancing, and the Detective was there. So close and so beautiful._

_He had never been more unworthy._

_Lucifer's eyes snapped back open when a jolt of paralyzing agony shot through him. He let out a hoarse yell, struggling against the hold of demon chains, forged bewitched so that no celestial strength could effect them. Not under normal circumstances anyways. Not by the one imprisoned within them._

_"I'm so, so sorry, your highness." She mocked, stroking the exposed flesh on his back, "They **just** grew back. Don't worry though, these will be your last pair ever. The poison shall make sure of it. Say goodbye!"_

_Lucifer tried to focus on breathing, on finding the light inside him, on the woman with the bright eyes..._

_"Say goodbye!" She ordered, the blade finding its way into his flesh._

_Lucifer screamed, wondering when he was going to finally pass out. That had been an order?_

_It must have been and a part of him must have registered it as such._

_"G-good... goodbye..." He whispered, eyes clenched tightly shut._

_"Good boy!" She praised, clapping him on the back and making his world erupt in white, scalding agony._

_Every time Lucifer thought that he had reached the summit of his self-hatred, his Father proved him wrong._

**_He hated himself._ ** _So, so much._

_"I hate you too." She reassured him, stroking his remaining wing with tenderness that betrayed everything that she was, "Don't worry though, my king." She grinned, "Soon enough, neither of us, or anyone else for the matter, will ever have to deal with you again."_

_That was the first bit of good news that Lucifer could remember hearing in centuries._

_Perhaps she was pleased with it too, or maybe she wanted to enjoy and savour the last time that she got to torture him through abusing his wings. It had never hurt that much before._

_***cries in Dekcerstar*** _

If she'd been wondering about what was bad enough to get him to quit sleeping all together, she finally had her answer.

It was true that it wasn't even the first time that she'd seen him trying to forgo sleeping all together. There'd been the endless partying ( _"Not enough time in the day for a devil to solve crimes, have fun, and sleep an amount that you'd deem "healthy", Detective!"_ ) and there'd been some odd incidents like that time he thought he was the Angel of San Bernardino for example.

But now... It was different. 

She knew that he had nightmares from time to time. Possibly every night? She'd even heard him talking in his sleep so long ago. Did his face always end up scrunched dup like that? Did tears always stream from his eyes in the most silent, sad? Did he always beg and plead for someone to help?

She knew Lucifer. He'd never beg in a real life situation. However, during whatever he was dreaming of or possibly reliving...

Her heart was breaking. Tears were already glistening in her eyes.

"Lucifer." She whispered, unable to raise her voice much higher, "Lucifer, babe, please... Wake up."

She shook his shoulder gently, her other hand stroking his face. Lucifer let out a strangled whimper, shying sway from her touch. He twisted and wreathed, ending up curled up into a tight ball, face hidden under his trembling arms.

"Lucifer." Chloe repeated, louder. She took a deep breath and shook his shoulder again, her touch firmer but still gentle nonetheless. She rubbed his back, calling out his name repeatedly.

"Lucifer, come on..."

He just sobbed harder.

"Please... I'm sorry... De'ctive… Need to get to... De'ctive…"

What?

"Hurts... Hurts... Make it stop... please... 'm sorry... 'm a monster. Sorry... so sorry..."

She was sobbing too, at loss. Every time she touched him, she seemed to somehow make it worse. She couldn't possibly leave him like this, suffering...

"Lucifer!"

He woke up.

It was slow at first. His body froze and he seemed to loosen up a bit. Lucifer got up slowly, full body tremors wracking his lean frame. He backed up against the headboard, wide eyes darting around the room without really seeing anything. He brought the remains of his shirt closer to his body, tightening them around him, hiding the blackened mess of his chest from her. Was he cold or did he just want her to avoid seeing that?

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He kept on murmuring, "Please... I didn't mean to hurt you o-or the urchin or... or Uriel... or... or everyone e-else! Sorry!"

Then he stopped. Mouth open, breathing heavy, and eyes wet. He seemed to freeze, almost as though someone managed to put him on pause. She regarded him, horrified, alternating between wanting to wrap him up in her arms and not wanting to spook him or cause him any harm.

"Lucifer?"

He let out a breath, slumping into himself. Lucifer brought his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly. His chest heaved. The sobs ceased but the tears kept coming, shining like liquid diamonds racing down his gaunt cheeks. His breathing hitched and he paled.

"Lucifer!"

"C-can't..." He choked, "Can't breathe! H-help! D-detective!"

His awareness seemed to waver after that, his only focus being attempting to breathe. Chloe scrambled towards him, training kicking in.

"Lucifer, breathe." She coached, voice gentle and calm, much calmer that she thought it had the right to be, "Breathe with me. Come on. Take it easy. Here, like this..."

She stayed with him for a long time, doing her best to calm him and ground him. It took some time, time she spent comforting him and trying to push the darkest thoughts from her own head.

"D-detective?" He ventured, eyes closed, breathing quickly in the aftermath of his panic attack, "I... 's why I don't sleep. Good reason too." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Oh, Lucifer." She guided him into her arms, leaning back against the headboard of his gigantic bed. Lucifer seemed to hesitate. Knowing him, it'd be something about "not being worthy", which never failed to break her heart. Thankfully, his distress and panic seemed to trump his self-hatred. He collapsed into her embrace, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. His shoulders were still shaking. She rubbed his back soothingly, burying her face in his hair.

"D-don't do that, please." He whispered.

"Do what?"

"Rub my back." Lucifer responded.

Rubbing his back? Lucifer... she thought he loved that. Perhaps it brought up bad memories? Maybe it just served to make him tense and uncomfortable and-

"It's too relaxing." He explained after a while, "I-I don't want to fall back asleep. I'm so tired, but... but I _can't._ Don't let me. Please. I can't..."

She hushed him, struggling to find words. Where would she even start?

"Lucifer, we _will_ figure this out." Chloe promised, gently nudging him and tilting his head up for the lightest of kisses.

Lucifer just gave her a sad smile, infinite heartache in the form of glimmering tears pooling up in his unfathomable, endless eyes. The apology went unspoken.

They needed to talk. But as she pressed her forehead to his for the second time that night, Chloe couldn't bring herself to begin that conversation. She just held him for the longest of time, mind restless and chest aching with the worst pain she'd ever felt.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"They call this LA." He informed her, "It's where our _king_ has been spending his holydays."

Lilith wrinkled her nose before she smirked. She nudged the corpse on the floor, brutally tortured and turned into quite the grotesque masterpiece of blood and carnage, with the tip of her knee-high leather boot.

"And this will get his attention?"

"I don't see why we don't just storm his club and kill him. I think that would be much easier and more reasonable." the demon rolled his eyes.

Lilith grinned.

"And since when is anyone concerned by what you think?" She asked sweetly.

A second and the bodies on the floor became two.

"He'll be back later." She shrugged, turning to the others, "Just let him find a new meat suit or something."

The two demons, guised as two normal humans, nodded.

Lilith turned to survey her work for one last time, nodding in satisfaction.

"Oh, he's going to _love_ this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I am only using the most basic canon facts for Lilith in this story (mother of demons for example). The rest is made up. Obviously, season 5 won't be anything like this. I'm hoping for angst and Deckerstar and LOT of Lucifer whump though. Hence, writing this.
> 
> Have a great day!


	5. On My Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: On My Own by Ashes Remain

Lucifer was really getting on her last nerve.

Sometimes, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at him, but other times… How could he possibly be so selfish? So ignorant? So… _Lucifer_.

It was like he didn’t care.

“Lucifer?” She asked one night, crawling out of bed and heading downstairs when she woke up and didn’t find him there, “Did you hear anything else from Michael? He said he needed to talk to us.”

That had been a week ago. One of the worst weeks of her _entire_ life ago.

“No.” Lucifer shook his head, not looking up from where he was engrossed in staring at the ground, “Thankfully.”

Thankfully?!!

“He’s trying to help us, babe.” She sighed.

“Yes, well, there is no cure for this poison.” Lucifer told her, fiddling with his shirt sleeve, “Unless Dear Old Dad wishes to come down here and figure out a way to heal me himself, my fate is sealed. Neither Michael nor Raphael nor any of my siblings who you’d been putting your faith in can help, Detective.”

“Who can then?”

“Nobody.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “As I’ve told you a thousand times, Detective. You should cease obsessing over this already.”

She was going to murder him herself.

“And you’re just okay with dying? That’s it?” She seethed, “Show’s over?”

“I merely plan to spend the rest of my days in the company of you and the urchin, my love.” Lucifer informed her, finally looking up to meet her eyes.

How could he say that? How could he possibly…

“And after that?”

“I die.” He gulped, but his eyes remained empty, devoid of any emotion, “I have lived for far too long anyway.”

“What about Trixie and I?” She asked, her voice hollow, tears already cascading down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite how it was far from a cold night.

“What about you?” Lucifer frowned, straightening up, “Is something the matter, Detective? Did something happen?”

Something the matter? _Something the matter?_ He.. he was trying to kill her. How could he even ask if something had happened? Was everything that he'd been through, that they'd been through, nothing to him? Didn't it qualify as "something"?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She sobbed, “Just… Lucifer, what the _fuck?_ ”

He was still frowning at her, shocked at her rare use of profanity, clearly in distress at the sight of her tears. He was confused too. Lucifer rose up from the couch, hissing in pain. He was at her side in two long strides. His hands flew up, to either hug her or cup her face, but he stopped in mid air. Lucifer frowned at his trembling arms, a sad, horrified look flashing across his face. He lowered them without touching her at all, his eyes fixed on the floor infinitely lost and sorrowed.

“How could you?” She sobbed.

“How could I what?”

“Do you just think that… that Trixie and I will continue on happily once you’re...”

She couldn’t even bring herself to say it!

“Well, I would suppose that you two would shed a few tears on my behalf. Assuming that there will be a funeral, you’d attend and… Maybe sulk for a… week? Two weeks? But then, yes, I suppose life could go on as usual because you have-”

She slapped him.

It was one of the worst possible things that she could’ve done, but she just…

How could he?

How could he think that? 

How could he do this to her? To them? 

“Detective, I-” Lucifer looked horrified, frozen, a hand ghosting above his cheek. He didn’t say anything else though. He nodded, seemingly to himself, eyes flying downwards.

She couldn’t take it any more.

Practically blinded by her burning tears, Chloe turned on her heel and fled to her bedroom. Lucifer remained rooted in the same spot.

Well, at least Trixie wasn’t home tonight.

_***Cries in deckerstar*** _

“Lucifer?” She called out, stepping out of the elevator, “I-I need to talk to you. Please. Lucifer!”

Lucifer flinched, freezing under the covers.

Was she back to slap him again? It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.

A part of him blamed this on Michael. Life had been perfect before that feathered prick showed up. Then again, deep down, Lucifer had always known that he would ruin it himself. His initial plan was to spend as much time as possible with the Detective and not much else. He wasn’t disillusioned into believing that he would magically get love and support. As it was, the devil was surprised that the Deckers had let him spend so much time with them. He shouldn’t be greedy.

_“Greed is one of your Father’s deadly sins, isn’t it, my king?” She giggled, the sound echoing and amplifying into the symphony of a thousand sharp voices, “Oh, I suppose you have them all! Do you think we could train them out of you? What are a few thousand years to the devil and a hoard of bored demons...”_

Lucifer flinched again, shutting his eyes against the memory. He could feel his mouth burning with the hellfire. 

_“Burn the gluttony and the lust right out of you, my king.”_

_“Oh, y-you’d have a hard time with that.”_

_“Harder for you than me.” She shrugged, twirling the glinting knife in her hand._

He could feel the whips at his back, the hounds yapping at his heels, the chains, the ash, the jeering-

“Lucifer?”

Lucifer startled, his heart stuttering in his chest.

“Lucifer, it’s just me.” She soothed.

Oh, it was the Detective. She'd found him cocooned up in his bed like the weakling that he was. The Detective was okay. She could touch him any time she wanted. She would never hurt him.

Though, she’d slapped him… But… that didn’t count as “hurting”, now did it? Almost literally everyone had done much worse at one point or another.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, voice thick with emotion, hand reaching out to touch his blanketed shoulder, “That was terrible, Lucifer, and I’m sorry… I was just so angry… and I still am. It’s just that...”

She’d come to realize that he was useless; that he was just some burden. Lucifer wasn’t stupid enough to expect anything else. He'd been the Poison of God. The Venom of God. The Blindness of God.

Before any of his stays in hell. Before Earth and LA and the Detective. How could he have possibly thought he’d change?

He was still the same. Just fowler. More monstrous. Worse.

“Lucifer, I know it isn’t an excuse, but how dare you say that?”

That? What had he said exactly?

“Do you seriously think that if you… if you died, Lucifer… Do you think that we’ll just move on?”

Oh. _That._

What felt like a million years ago… Back when he was still enjoying his vacation and everything with the Detective had been much less complicated, Lucifer would’ve made some joke about no one being able to live without him. About how his presence was crucial to everyone’s enjoyment and basic survival.

Now though…

It wasn’t like he had truly believed any of that, as he was quick to learn. If he'd gone missing, no one would have even looked. He knew as much and he was shown as much. However, these days, he couldn’t even bring himself to say the words much less paint on a self-satisfied, devilish, smirk. The joke would’ve burned on the way up, the memories invading his brain would’ve been too strong. Besides, it was all pointless.

_“Oh, my King, you’ll learn.” She whispered in his ear, stroking his long, matted hair, “You’ll learn how unneeded you are. Useless. Pathetic. Weak.”_

“Well.” She gulped, “We won’t. Trixie would be devastated. So many other people would be devastated. Lucifer, I… I wouldn’t know what do with myself. When you left, it was bad. For a long time. Sometimes, I still can’t believe that I managed to go on without you. And back then, I knew you were alive. Maybe you were suffering, but you were alive and… just… Michael said that you’d be gone when this, uh, poison… Not die and go back to hell. You’d just… vanish.”

That was an understandment. He’d be obliterated. No heaven and no hell. Nothingness. It sounded serene. 

It was the least he deserved for doing the same to Uriel.

“Lucifer, talk to me, please.” Chloe pleaded, rubbing his shoulder, sitting down next to him, “I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to but I-”

“You think I’m mad at you?” He whispered, a hollow laugh escaping his lips, “Detective!”

He couldn’t muster up the will to get up just yet. How long had he been here anyway? Lucifer shifted though, just enough to allow his head to peak out from under the black covers. He turned his head in the direction of the Detective, craning his neck to take in her beautiful face.

She was looking at him as though he was something precious. A small smile tugged at her lips at the sight of his face and her hand reached out to stroke his cheek like she’d done so a million times before. But she stopped. She hesitated. Lucifer, unsure as to why the Detective was being this ridiculous, willed himself to move just enough so that his cheek brushed her trembling hand.

“Lucifer...” She whispered, amazed, leaning down briefly to press a kiss to his forehead before her hand found its way to his hair like it always seemed to.

A barrier had been broken. Everything felt… lighter. Less tense. Lucifer relished in it, soaking up her attention with every ounce of his so called touch-starved being.

“I am not mad at you.” He informed her, “Never you, Detective. Your insistence on discussing this whole debacle with hell and the poison is irritating, but I can't possibly be mad at you”

“My insistence… Lucifer, why are you acting like this?” She sighed, “You are the most resilient, bull-headed person I know. You would’ve found a way to fix this. A way for us to be together, to save yourself, to make everything okay again… What happened to all of that?”

“Hell.” He whispered, surprised at his own voice. He didn’t fight the words wishing to burst out of him, “It all seems pointless now. Endless, Detective. All my life has been one long, long torture session. I… Sometimes, I believe that I’ve never known happiness until I met you. But all I do is cause you harm and suffering. All I do is cause everyone unlucky enough to be cursed with caring for me harm and suffering. The demons… Lilith… they just made me see things clearer.”

“Lucifer.” She sobbed out his name and suddenly, a weight landed on his back. Lucifer was shocked to find the Detective clinging to him, crying.

“Detective?” He whispered, “I am sorry for-”

“Don’t ever say that!” She ordered, “Don’t, Lucifer, just don’t… I love you. I can’t live without you. Trixie. Everyone. You know what, screw everyone. You’re not a monster!”

“I’m the devil.”

“You’re _hurt_.” She countered, “You won’t tell me who or what or why, Lucifer, but I don’t care. I love you and that hasn’t changed. We… we are going to figure this out, even if it means that I have to personally drag your Father down here by the… uh… by the lapels? Does He even have a corporeal form?”

“A perfectly punchable one, Detective.” He answered, laughing at the image of the his fiery lover marching through the Silver City and facing off with his Dad. She’d win of course. Every single time.

“Then, I’ll punch Him for you.” She promised, pressing a kiss to his temple, “I’ll punch anyone and everyone for you, Lucifer, and I know you’d do the same and then some more for me.”

“You are… a true miracle, Detective.” He breathed, “There has never been and there will never be one like you.”

And the most baffling thing was that she loved him. 

She still did. Even after everything. She chose him and she loved _him._

She was smiling at him, soft and perfect and reminiscent of everything he’d ever dreamed of. The emotion glistening through her deep blue eyes…

Love. For him. Because she loved him. Because she _cared_.

“I love you too.” She whispered, reaching up just a bit, her lips meeting his.

They shuffled arms and legs, both of them ending up under the covers. When their impromptu make over session ended, Lucifer was leaning back against the headboard, his Detective snuggled up into his chest. He didn’t think that he remembered the last time that he had been happy before her.

Some time passed; full of kissing, soft words, and the beautiful art of cuddling. The thoughts had been circling in Lucifer’s head the whole time, slowly pushing him until he reached the metaphorical ledge.

“It was demons.” He whispered into her ear, his voice so low that he could hardly hear it himself, “After I went back. They… they've never liked me, Detective and they managed to ambush me. To trap me, several hundred years after I… left. I got thrown into the P-pit and… and...”

He stopped, unable to continue. The Detective, somehow perfectly in sync with his emotions, just hugged him tighter and refrained from saying anything. She shifted their positions though, gently guiding him so that he was the one snuggled up against her. She carded a hand through his hair, pressing the occasional kiss to the crown of his head or anywhere on his face.

  
He should have been repulsed by it. Truly now.

When had he turned into some sort of pathetic mess of a devil?

Crying. Stuttering. Panicking. Cuddling.

_Running._

He hadn’t slept with the Detective ever since he got back, despite how he heard her tell Miss Lopez that the two of them were an “item”. That alone wasn’t concerning him as much as it should have.

He was letting memories torture him. What was that even about? The nightmares and the flashbacks… Everything reminded him of his time in the Pit and it didn’t make sense. He was out now. He was free. Why was his stupid brain so determined to force him to live through it all again every single time he heard a loud noise or a particular word or even bloody nothing at all?

The Detective was right.

He wasn’t being himself. But, then again, shouldn’t that have been better for everyone?

_“I don’t think they’ll care, my king.” She sighed, saddened, “You’ll just go ahead and die, and they’d be glad to get rid of you. Samael, the annoying, little angel with all the stupid questions and the hyperactivity to match. Lucifer, the Fallen, pathetic mess of a devil who prances around, bragging about always telling the truth when all he was is a lie itself. Pathetic through and through.”_

He was so lost. So confused.

“This… poison. She found it. Made it. F-from the darkness. I-I remain uncertain in regards to its true nature. The fact that it’s darkness alone, mixed with whatever she’d done… That’s enough to kill me. Being a being of light and all that. But, there is more to it, Detective. I swear to you that I do not know what it is, beyond that. I just know how it courses through my veins, destroying all I am, seeping away at my grace, at my very force of life. She… she wants to be the Queen of Hell and she thinks that whatever this is is the final step in this ritual she performed to give herself my angelic powers; my grace. It’s all because my bastard of a Father made Hell in a way that only an angel can rule over it and… and… She does not just want that. They hate me. They want me to die. To suffer. I know that I deserve everything they did, Detective, but it hurts and… and...”

He stopped again.

He was crying.

Bloody hell. _Of course_ he was.

His stupid rant… The words had just flown out of his mouth, heavy with the weight of emotions he didn’t understand. 

“Lucifer, I...”

“Don’t. Please.” He whispered, shaking his head against her neck, glad that neither of them could see the other’s face.

Suddenly, he could remember the last time he’d told her those exact words, a few feet away from where they currently were.

How could everything change so drastically?

It had been centuries for him, that much was true. But still…

Lucifer recalled every moment spent with the wonderful woman holding him right now. Every single one of them. Boring paperwork included.

He wouldn’t have dreamed of ever sitting with her like this, much less all the crying and the general forms of pitifulness that he was exposing her to these days. After all, he was Lucifer Bloody Morningstar. When had their dynamic changed so much? When had he learned to expose himself to him like this, raw and bleeding and in desperate need of someone to chase away his fears?

The old him wouldn’t have admitted into having fears in the first place.

“You know,” she began voice chipper, continuing before he could ask her to drop the subject of his time in Hell, “we have a new case.”

She was… distracting him? Oh, this perfect, magnificent woman…

“We do?” He echoed, perking up as though he hadn’t been crying and moping for the what felt like an eternity.

“Uh huh.” Her fingers scratched at his scalp, the comfort that that movement brought him akin to a balm to the festering wounds in his very soul, “Triple homicide. Just got the call on my way here."

“How exciting!” He grinned.

He was excited too! It wasn’t fake. He didn’t feel as though he wanted to scream himself hoarse or begin running and never stop.

He was... Happy. Sort of. For now. Content at the very least.

Of course, a divine kick in the nuts had to be delivered to remedy that immeaditly.

Michael appeared in a whoosh of dark wings. He was right there at the foot of the bed, staring at them. Lucifer debated moving away from the Detective and straightening up. He knew that his eyes were red and that disgusting tear tracks remained on his cheeks. After all, it wouldn’t do to appear like a snotty toddler in front of his twin. She loosened her arms, understanding him and giving him a way out. He looked between his brother and his lover before settling back down. Honestly now, he was going to die in a bit over an earthen fortnight or so. He’d spent more than enough centuries keeping up pretences.

“Do you enjoy watching us all this much, brother?” Lucifer huffed, eyes narrowed and voice frosty.

“Not exactly.” Michael answered, curt, and Lucifer was able to instantly recognize that his brother was in a hurry; worried and itching to go on his way in the pursuit of a lead or a quest. He hadn’t changed all that much then, unlike Lucifer himself. It was both a comofrting and a harrowing thought.

“What is it then?” The Detective wondered, amiable, giving Michael the tiniest of smiles when Lucifer didn’t say anything at all.

Oh, he should’ve spoken. Right. Yes, of course.

Why had he fallen silent?

Her fingers found his, discretely weaving them together under the covers in a silent show of support and a quiet attempt at soothing him. Lucifer found it in himself to relax, knowing that she was there with him.

It was beyond silly.

“Demons.” Michael intoned, “I understand that this news might be upsetting to you, brother, but I must inform the both of you that some demons have breached through the gates of Hell.”

“They’re here?” Lucifer shuddered, pulse quickening and pupils dilating far quicker than they had the right to.

He knew that feeling.

No. No. _No!_

Bloody Hell. The last thing he wanted was for Michael of all creatures to see him like this. Although, if his brother was indeed visiting him, then it was more probable that he hadn’t imagined him in that first week or so after he managed to get out. Lucifer was having trouble separating reality from fiction and his brother’s recent return to his life was not helping.

He did his best to calm himself, thinking about things that made him happy. He imagined that silly pillow fort, spending his days with the Detective and the spawn, all the bickering and bantering he did on crime scenes…

It helped, but it wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough.

He went down the spiral of fear and panic and all manners of unpleasentness that he couldn’t even understand for what felt like the millionth time during the past few weeks. Would he ever be free?

When he finally managed to breathe again, cracking his eyes open, Michael was gone. He was still in the Detective’s arms. She was murmuring soothing nonesense into his ear, rocking him gently and rubbing his back in a gesture that he knew humans used to inspire calm and chase away distress.

Lucifer didn’t think that he’d ever felt lower than he had at that moment and that was saying a _lot._ What sort of devil was he, flying into panic at the mere mention of some demons popping back up to Earth? He’d been afraid the last time it happened, but he’d also been all jokes and charm. 

“You’re okay.” The Detective whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Lucifer relaxed into her embrace, consciously regulating his breathing into a more organized rhythm.

“Michael didn’t say much else.” She informed him, stating it as though it were a casual fact, as though he hadn’t just… Ugh.

“We still have our case.” The Detective continued, “If you’re interested. It could help take your mind off of… everything.”

Oh, his clever Detective!

“Always interested to spend time in y-your company, love.”

She giggled a lit bit, finding his face to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Isn’t it too late for work though?” He wondered. What time was it even?

“Lucifer, it’s not even 7 in the morning yet.” She laughed.

 _Oh._ He’d only been here for a few hours. His warped sense of time and the company of his depressing thoughts and ghastly memories had managed to trick him yet again. Splendid.

“I came here as fast as I could.” She explained, kissing him again, “I know that it’s best to spend some time apart, to… calm down and everything, but I just couldn’t imagine you all alone here, Lucifer. I was so scared. So guilty. I tried calling but you didn’t answer so I just… I’m so sorry.”

What the hell was she even talking about?

Lucifer raked his mind, concluding that she must have been talking about slapping him. Wow. She was still going on about that?

“Detective, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He told her, rolling his eyes, “Honestly now, one would think that you actually managed to harm me...”

His cheek stung just a bit, courtesy of his now constant mortality. It didn’t bruise or anything though. She hadn’t hit him with the intent of harming him. She’d never hurt him after all. Why was she so hung up on this? He deserved much, much worse.

“I still am.” She sighed, “That was really shitty of me to do, Lucifer. You didn’t deserve that.”

Ha!

“Anything I can do to start making it up for you?”

Okay, woah. What the-

“Stay.” He found himself saying, “Please.”

He didn’t know where the words were coming from and he could hardly recognize the sound of his own voice, but Lucifer kept going. He tried to ignore the ache in his throat that had nothing to do with the venom taking over his body and soul.

“I-I don’t how long until...” He trailed off, meeting her shinning eyes, “And the only reason I escaped there is to see you one last time and I’ve been afraid, Detective… Of you, leaving. It was all that I expected, but ever since I came back and you… took me in and just… Don’t leave. Until I… Until the end. Stay please?”

Oh, she was going to leave. If she'd been pitying him enough to indulge him and stay before, his increasingly pitiful actions were going to drive her away.

“Of course.” The Detective promised, cupping his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, “I would never... Until the end, Lucifer."

For the first time since he returned, Lucifer leaned in to kiss her instead of the other way around. The Detective was as pleasantly surprised as he was, but she didn’t say anything, happy enough to serenade their promise with a gentle, yet passionate, kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter is where it turns from angst, h/c, some more angst, and a bit of setting things to actual plot... Yay?
> 
> Have a nice day and stay safe!


	6. The Judge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: The Judge by Twenty One Pilots
> 
> Hope you like this, wonderful people!

“Lucifer? Buddy?” Ella asked, looking up at their resident devil from where she was crouched next to one of the dead bodies, camera in hand, “Are you alright? You’re looking a little pale.”

“Perfectly f-fine, Miss Lopez.” Lucifer bit out, giving her a small, pained smile as he tried to focus on anything but the three bodies.

Was that how he’d looked like? How he would look like in a few weeks? He could remember the bodies of all the people he loved, laying there, dead beneath his feet, from that hell loop of sorts. He could clearly recall the pain of that. Suddenly, he could begin to understand why the Detective had been mad at him several hours ago.

Lucifer was contemplating making up some excuse and running away like the coward that he was. At the moment, nothing but the faces of the three corpses was visible. Yet, that was more enough to get his insides churning. He’d long since been desensitized to this sort of thing and yet… Lucifer bit back the nausea and the barricade of horrific memories, wondering if there was something that the demons hadn’t managed to strip away from him.

The bodies seemed to belong to two women and one child. The faces were disfigured in the most sadistic of ways; tongues, ears, and eyes chopped off and decorating the surroundings of the green clearing they were in. Teeth all pulled out and shoved down their throat. Bruises, cuts, burns… It hurt to look at.

Lucifer turned to his favourite person ever, his eyes softening as he watched her battle her own internal demons.

_“Someone who knows that every crime scene breaks your heart even though you’ll never admit it.”_

He wanted to pat her shoulder or place a hand at the small of her back. Something, anything really, to lessen the pain in her eyes. He couldn’t though. He hadn’t forgotten. He promised them that he’d never forget.

_“Don’t touch me!” The Detective cried, “Don’t! You’re a monster! G-get away, Lucifer! Now!”_

_“Detective, please. I am sorry.” He wept, way past the point of anger and holding on to a morsel of self-esteem or dignity, “Just… Just...”_

_He came closer, hands raised in surrender, begging her to not do this to him._

_Lucifer felt the bullets pierce his body. He felt himself hit the floor and bleed out before the loop reset itself. Somehow, that was better than the sound of her sobs or the clear hatred and fear in her eyes._

“Okay, so COD is unclear.” Ella told them, “I mean, look at these poor fellas...” She carefully removed the tarp that had been covering the body of the first woman, pointing to the carnage that was the rest of her. Both women had been young, late twenties or early thirties perhaps. The little girl could not have been older than the spawn. Lucifer knew that that alone would be a nightmare for the Detective to deal with.

The bodies...

Burns, whip marks, lacerations… Lucifer was already feeling queasy at the site of these classic, yet brutal, signs of torture. He could almost smell the ash and taste copper at the back of his throat. He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. There was no way in anything and everything that he was going to get reduced to a blubbering, breathless mess of a devil in the middle of a crime scene where all these people milling about could see. The Detective was different. Also, as much as he hated to admit it, Michael was different as well.

  
A minute passed as he focused on his breathing and allowed Miss Lopez’s endless ramblings to wash over him. She still had the power to calm him, perhaps summoning memories and emotions belonging to a much simpler time with his favourite sister who’d went on to become the forensic scientist’s “imaginary” best friend.

When he felt safe enough to open his eyes again, Lucifer dared to smile, feeling a bit accomplished. His pathetic accomplishment was short-lived though.

As he watched the forensic sceintist explain something about the stab wounds and torture, Lucifer became painfully aware of something. There on the women’s chest… that was…

Lucifer paled. His breathing quickened and his stomach sank.

He hurried to the other two corpses, naked as well, yanking the tarp away from them. Sure enough, they sported the continuation of that sentence. Carved into them like some sort of sick calling card. A warning? A summoning? Teasing between torturer and tortured?

“These...” He gasped, on his knees, fingers ghosting over wounds caked with dried blood.

“We can’t figure them out, Lucifer.” Ella shook her head, “As I’ve said before, dude. I guess they gotta belong to some cult or maybe-”

“They’re Enochian.” Lucifer interrupted, never taking his eyes off the corpses, as though he could somehow change reality like that.

“Huh?” The Detective asked.

“Enochian.” Lucifer repeated, “Language of the angels.”

“Ah.” Ella nodded, grinning, “And you can read it of course. Because you’re _the_ devil and all that. Neat!”

The Detective didn’t share that smile. Although Lucifer was having a hard time keeping track of the people around him, he could tell that his clever Detective was beginning to put the pieces together.

“So what does it say?” The forensic scientist wondered, notebook in hand, “Perks of having our own resident devil, I guess.”

Lucifer didn’t even hear her. He was already drowning.

“Lucifer?” The Detective’s voice interpreted his poisonous thoughts, “What does it say?”

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and Lucifer panicked. He just… reacted. Sort of.

This was too much to handle. He needed to plan, to breathe, to think, to do… something!

“Lucifer?” The Detective whispered gently, her hand moving to rub his neck in a soothing motion, “Are you alright? Lucifer?”

Her voice seemed to jolt something in him. The gesture that he usually relished in and found great comfort in was suddenly its own form of torture. Her soft hand on the back of his was too much. The corpses were too much. The sun was too much. The poison coursing in his body was too much.

_Everything._

Lucifer scrambled to his feet and ran, not caring about the voices in the back of his head, suspiciously sounding like a blend of Michael and _her_ , taunting him and calling him a coward. 

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

She found him deep into the woods, pressed up against an overgrown tree, knees pulled to his chest and face tucked between them.

It was cruel, but a part of her missed the “invincible” version of him at times. She was as equally, if not more, inclined to help and love this version of him. Of course she was. She didn't hate, blame, or resent him. It was just that she… It hurt. Seeing him like this. It was terribly selfish of her, but Chloe wished that she would never have to see him like this again. The ache in her chest just grew with that thought. If that was how she felt, then how did Lucifer feel about all of this?

Worse. Probably much, much worse.

“Lucifer.” She called out gently, approaching him as slowly as she could, “It’s me, Chloe.”

“Detective, aren’t you sick and tired of my continuous displays of such pathetic behaviour?” He asked, looking up to meet her eyes with his dry, yet panicked, ones, “How can you even stand to look at me?”

She sighed, wishing that there was a way to make him understand. Normal Lucifer would have had a hard time accepting the fact that she loved him, that he was worthy of this love, and that people who loved each other didn’t just abandon each other at the sign of the first bump in the road. This Lucifer… She didn’t think that there way a way to get through to him. That didn’t mean that she was not going to try.

“Lucifer,” she began, sitting next to him, as close as she dared, “may I hug you?”

“Why would you want to hug me when I’m-”

In modern Luciferian, that statement coupled with the hope and the longing in his eyes was as clear a sign as any to his answer. Her arm snaked around his neck, pulling their bodies closer and closer.

“You’re not pathetic, Lucifer.” She told him, rubbing his arm, feeling him relax just a bit, “You’ve been through insane levels of trauma, all on your own. Trauma does this sort of thing to people, babe, and then some more.”

“But I’m not people, now am I?” He sneered, angry with himself, “I’m the _devil_. That used to mean something, you know.”

“It still does.” She gave him a small smile.

Lucifer scoffed, touched and yet repulsed by the sentiment all at once. They sat there on the floor for a while, not really talking or doing much of anything, just basking in each other’s presence.

“It roughly translates to, _'We missed you, my king.'_ ” Lucifer informed her all of a sudden, out of the blue. He wouldn’t look at her, going back to shivering. It was almost as if the words had a direct, visible effect on him.

“And these… the demons? The ones Michael was talking about?”

The ones who tortured him? Who hurt him? Who went ahead and tried their hardest to break him?

Lucifer nodded, “She’s the only one who still calls me that and that’s...”

(Lucifer trailed off, shutting up. He thought that telling the Detective that he could recognize the torture technique and the particular method of carving from the several thousand of times that the crazed Mother of Demons used his own body as a canvas for her would make her cry at the very least. If he was tired of crying himself, Lucifer was even more tired of making the love of his life shed tears on his behalf.)

“I thought that it would be some demons like the last time.” He confessed, “A few possessions, some trouble… Not… N-not them coming down to hunt me down like a dog.”

“You are not a dog, brother. You are an angel.”

Lucifer glared at the form of his brother, casually walking out from behind another huge tree with messy, upturned roots, tucking his wings away.

“Are you going to come over and stalk me every time I choose to spend some time with my girlfriend?”

His girlfriend. Sweet! Completely inappropriate time for this, mind you, but Chloe had learned to appreciate the small things.

“I am here to protect you.” Michael informed him, extending a hand to help him get up.

Lucifer did not move. He glared at the offered hand as though it were a personal offence, choosing to remain as close to Chloe herself as possible.

“I don’t need your protection.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Go grovel at Dad’s feet or something, Michael. Leave me alone in peace.”

“Oh, to _die_ in peace you mean?” Michael wondered, unamused, “Accept my help. You are in no condition to protect yourself or those you love.”

She could feel Lucifer tense beside her, an odd keening noise escaping his lips, eyes far away.

“Did you seriously just realize that Lilith could get to any of your beloved pet humans?” Michael inquired, “She could carve them up just to leave you another lovely note, brother, and you would be helpless to do anything in your state as-”

“Enough!” Lucifer bellowed, rising to his feet, wobbling. Michael instantly caught his forearms in an attempt to steady him, almost a reflex. Lucifer gasped and pulled away, flinching and stumbling right into her arms. Chloe put her own hands on his biceps, steadying him as much as she could.

“I don’t need your bloody help, Michael!” Lucifer fumed, not moving away, “I don’t need your protection or your lies or your half-arsed attempts at-”

“You need to sleep.” Michael declared after giving him a quick scan, decision already made.

He extended his hand rapidly, his index and middle finger swiping over Lucifer’s brow and down the bridge of his nose. One strange muttered word later and Lucifer’s eyes were closed. His body sagged and his face relaxed, energy fleeing all his muscles at once. Chloe wrapped her arms around him, struggling to hold him and prevent him from tumbling to the ground.

Michael, as swift and as silent as ever, grabbed his brother, already in the process of hefting him to his arms.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She thundered, “What did you do to him?”

“Calm yourself, Chloe Decker.” Michael ordered, uncomfortably close to her as they both held on to Lucifer’s limp form, “I merely put him to sleep.”

“You merely put him to sleep?” She echoed, the sarcasm and the anger attenuating every syllable.

“Yes, that is what I said.” He frowned, as though genuinely confused, “Anyone could see that he could use some slumber.”

“Well, yes, but-”

“But what?” Michael scoffed, “This is harmless, in case you are not familiar with our celestial ways. I have done this for him no less than hundreds of thousands of times, Chloe Decker. Even young, my brother struggled with nightmares. This was one of the easiest ways to get him to fall asleep.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not a little kid any more.” Chloe fumed, “You can’t just go around deciding things for him and then knocking him out.”

“You and I both agree that he needs to sleep.” Michael repeated, “I do not even see the issues of conflict here.”

“The issue of conflict is that Lucifer is his own person!” She bristled, “He gets to decide what he wants to do with his life. You don’t get to just… just knock him out with some angel voodoo any time he says something that you don’t like.”

“My brother is in no condition to decide anything.” Michael sighed, actually looking saddened by that statement, “He is broken by all of what those monsters inflicted upon him.”

“Lucifer is not broken!” She exploded, “He’s hurt but he’s… he’s-”

“Dying.” Michael filled in, “Bad and quick enough that it has more beings worried than you can imagine, Chloe Decker. He needs our help.”

“You cannot just shove your bigotry down someone’s throat and call it help!”

“Where can I lay him down?” Michael asked, clearly deciding that he was done indulging her “silliness”.

“Wake him up.” She ordered, although she secretly wanted Lucifer to rest for days.

“This is a deep, restful slumber.” Michael explained, “No nightmares and no pain. Just calm and dark serenity. Would you really advocate for taking that away form him, knowing the constant pain and terror that has become his life?”

She couldn’t do that. She didn’t want to do that. However, imagining how upset and angry Lucifer would be when he woke up…

“He would wake up calm and relaxed.” Michael bribed, beyond fed up but tired of conflict, “And waking him from the hold of this will hurt him even more. It is harmless, I swear.”

She sighed, already knowing her answer.

“Where can I lay him down?”

“There’s a cot in Ella’s lab.” Chloe told him, letting go of Lucifer so that Michael could scoop him into his arms, “I… It’s the best place I can think of right now because there’s no way I’m letting him out of my sight. Especially if there’s some murderous bitch on the hunt for him.”

“That is adorable.” Michael laughed, “You really think that putting him in a building full of your law enforcement humans would actually offer him any kind of help? Do you think that you, Chloe Decker, could protect him if Lilith and her minions were to come for him?”

“I… What do you think we should do?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to our Father, to get him to lift Lucifer’s ban in some offer of sanctuary or just… find him somewhere. Help us. Point us in the direction of a way to reverse this venom. This situation is escalating much quicker than anyone could have anticipated."

Chloe paled, thinking of being away from her partner again. If it kept him safe though, could she even pretend to be selfish enough to refuse?

How serious were things if Michael wanted to hide his brother in heaven of all places? To ask God for help? She was missing way too many puzzle pieces. This insane game of celestial chess was beyond anything she could comprehend. 

“And?”

“Nothing!” Michael fumed, “Nothing at all. No one wishes to help me. They are all sitting back and waiting to see how it would all play out.”

“Protect him.” Chloe whispered, mind made, “If I… If humans can't help him, then protect him, Michael. Please. I know Lucifer can be a bit… stubborn, and I know that he would flip out if he ever finds out about this, but can you promise to always protect him?”

“You have my word.” Michael smiled, spreading his wings and disappearing.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Ella hurried into her lab, whistling the tune of a song that had been stuck in her head since the previous night. She was a bit worried for Lucifer, who had apparently gone back… here? Chloe hadn’t been clear. She was beyond worried for her devilish friend, concerned by his odd behaviour and his apparent lack sleep and general health.

No one would tell her anything though. She went to turn on the lights, catching something in the corner of her eyes. Ella startled, almost dropping her things.

“Lucifer, hi!” She laughed, surprised to find him standing in the corner of the darkened lab, “Dude, why are you wearing a dress? And since when do you let your hair get all curly and are those-”

She stopped rambling, eyes widening as she took in the site of the huge wings which were almost melted into the shadows. Lucifer was staring at her with an odd sort of confusion and awe.

“You can see me?” He asked, his accent a bit different. Just the tiniest bit. In the darkness, she could have sworn that he looked more like himself, more like how he'd looked before he came back. His eyes too... What was going on?

“Well, duh.” She dumped her bag by the counter, coming closer to him, “Cool wings though. You into cosplay for the whole devil shtick too? Man, I don’t think I’ve seen a method actor this dedicated since, like, I don’t know… Maybe-”

There, on the bed that she kept for late nights, was Lucifer. In the same suit from the morning, with the same gaunt look he’d had ever since his return. 

She realized several things at once.

Lucifer in the robe looked like Lucifer normally did. None of he sickly air that he had had around him for a while now was present. As the shadows melted, she could clearly see that. Ella could also somehow… feel the wings. They weren’t really, really expensive props, were they?

Looking between the two figures...

“Lucifer, oh my god!” She rushed to him, hugging him with all the had, awkwardly adjusting her hug to accommodate the huge, black wings, “Did you, like, die? Oh my god, Lucifer, I’m so sorry! But look you’ve got wings and a weird ass robe, so, um… that’s… It doesn’t matter? Does it? I can’t believe you’re dead, buddy! And to think that you died right here in my lab and… and…!”

“I am not Lucifer.” He frowned squirming in her grasp, “How can you see me? Why do you presume that my brother is dead?”

“You’re a ghost, obviously, and uh… My friend, Rae-Rae, I’ve already told you about her before, dunno if you remember but like… Yeah, I can see ghosts and why did you die? How did you die? Why haven’t you went to heaven and also are you going to haunt the precinct now? Why-”

“Do you always talk this much?” He wondered, trying to pull away, letting out a sigh of relief when she let him go. He seemed to hesitate, lost in thought and not sure of what he should say, “You think Lucifer will go to heaven? If he were mortal and he died?”

“I know you don’t really believe it yourself, but you’re a good man.” Ella huffed, “Of course you’ll go to heaven! Why are you referring to yourself in third person?”

“I am not Lucifer.” He sighed, “I am Michael, his brother. Pleasure to meet you, chatty human woman.”

“Dude, Lucifer has a twin called Michael? Priceless!” She laughed, “Man, your parents were really something else, huh? Is the whole family into cosplay or method acting or like… something?”

“Since you can see me and I know for a matter of fact that you are a close friend of my brother’s, I believe that you may prove yourself to be useful.” Michael decided, “I am an angel. Obviously. None of this… ghost business that you seem intent on believing. If you have any more questions, refer to my brother or Chloe Decker for answers and clarification. Oh, and also, be not afraid and all that.”

With that, apparently not interested in pursuing the conversation any longer, Michael disappeared from sight.

"Aaaand _that_ just happened. Okay. Cool." She laughed, "What do you think, Luce? Lucifer! I mean Lucifer!"  
  


He just slept on, snoring softly.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Chloe studied the profile of her slumbering boyfriend, unable to even begin rifling through what was going on in her mind,

Lucifer had been sleeping for about six hours straight now, no nightmares to be detected. Although she hated to admit, Michael had been right. She wished that she had this sleep mojo to have this effect on him every single night. Actually, it was a bit hard to resist calling Michael in to do this for him every night.

The problem was that she was way out of her depth with all the celestial stuff. The angels seemed to have trouble communicating with each other and she was left with whatever she could piece together from their numerous arguments and abrupt goodbyes.

Knowing that whoever hurt Lucifer was now here, with the potential to hunt him down, was daunting. She didn’t think that she could let Lucifer out of her sight. While her best weapon was her measly human gun, she… She had nothing.

If Michael found a way to hide Lucifer up in heaven, she would let him. Better that than the precinct or her home. Who knew that this was serious enough to warrant such drastic measures? To warrant the interference of God himself?

Then again, Lucifer was _dying._

She groaned, grabbing her lukewarm coffee and turning her attention back to the laptop in front of her.

Lilith.

That was the one name that Michael repeated and that Lucifer seemed to be horrified of uttering. She was the one who Lucifer admitted to being tortured by. Who was she? Her basic knowledge about her wouldn't do. Besides, it was now case work. She had to find everything she could get her hands on. So far, it wasn’t looking pretty.

The articles and references she found online seemed to be contradicting. Her headache was growing more intense by the minute. Flashbacks of all the hours spent reading up on the devil back when she had been in Rome were not helping her either. 

The first human, created alongside Adam. Adam’s first wife. The first to be corrupted by Lucifer, turning into the first demon. The mother of all demons? The Queen of Hell? Not yet in reality anyway.

The deeper she dug, the more questions she had.

“Decker?” Ella asked, bursting into the lab. She’d been pacing outside for at least an hour. Before that, she’d made herself scarce. Chloe, occupied as she was with the epic that was becoming her daily life, had not payed it too much attention. Ella being Ella, right?

“Yeah?”

“I-I need to talk to you. Like, right now.” 

“Okay?” She turned to face the smaller woman, frowning at how nervous she looked, “You alright, Ella?”

  
“Uh, yeah. Fine. Perfectly fine. Totally a-okay. Bueno and all that.” Ella accented her words with eager nods, casting concerned looks at Lucifer who was sleeping on, “Is he alright? I mean, the past few days, ever since he got back...”

“He’s sick.” Chloe supplied, sighing. It wasn’t a lie. 

“Oh.” Ella gulped, “Didn’t know that the devil could get sick.”

Chloe’s brow furrowed. Ella never refereed to him as the devil. She always indulged his “method acting”, but she never…

“I… Decker, I love you. You’re the closest thing I have to a sister. I care about you. A lot.”

“Same here, Ella.” She smiled, “Is everything alright with you…?”

“Lucifer is the devil!” Ella blurted.

“What?”

“I… there’s something you need to know. I mean you might know and you probably know, but… Just hear me out.” She bit her lip, taking a deep breath, “Lucifer’s the devil. Like, the real deal. Beelzebub, the Adversary, all that stuff… It’s kinda cool to have proof that something I’ve believed in for so long is real. Like heaven… hell… the Big Guy, you know? But, I’ve always believed that the devil gets a bad rap! You know that! He’s not evil or anything! I mean, he watches movies with Trix and steals Dan’s pudding and eats ridiculous amounts of Cool Ranch Puffs and fights with the vending machine almost daily and just… I couldn’t not let you know and Michael said that I should ask you about this which means that you must know so I have to check. Do you know? About it? Oh, man, I should’ve talked to Lucifer first and-”

“Ella!” She almost shouted, getting up and approaching the frantic scientist, “Breathe. Okay? Just breathe.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I know all about it.” Chloe assured her, “I’ve known for a while now.”

“And?”

“And I think I’ll blow up if I love him any more than I do.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before she found herself on the receiving end of a trademark Ella hug.

“Yes!” Ella cheered, bouncing a bit, “Deckerstar lives on!”

The sentence made dread churn in her stomach. She patted Ella’s back, her eyes fixed on the slumbering devil in the corner. “Deckerstar” could not live on if he…

“Michael said I could be helpful.” Ella told her, finally releasing her and stepping back, “So, what is it that you need my help with?”

Chloe could hardly believe that Ella was taking it all this calmly. Perhaps it was because of her incredibly devout faith? She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth though. Lucifer needed all the help he could get. They were running out of options. Whatever Lilith was planning was slowly morphing into something worse and worse. So far, it was looking like they were the losing side.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

  
Lucifer was at peace.

The world around him was pitch black, but it was not the kind of darkness that sent jolts of fear through your body or had you worrying about the monsters that it might harbour. It was calm and serenity. It was something that he could hardly remember.

He thought of the Detective and the Urchin. He thought of his first star. Of his beloved Corvette and his lovely Penthouse. Of Doctor Linda and even his nephew and his annoying brother.

He thought of sunsets and sunrises, of stars and galaxies and-

"You're awfully boring when you're not being tortured, you know that?" She sneered, her voice coming from everywhere around him, "All these useless sentiments and never ending spirals of pointless musings..."

Lucifer didn't say anything.

He could feel the calm that had sent him here, It helped ease his panic. Suddenly, Lucifer remembered this particular sensation. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

Michael.

His silly sleeping trick. It had been millennia, so long so in fact that Lucifer almost forgot it entirely. Michael gave him aa morsel of his energy, some of his essence, in a simple spell-like trick that sent him into peaceful slumber. It was liberating to be able to exchange power like this with his twin once more. Somehow, it was also excruciating. Really-

"Stop thinking so much, my king!" She yelled, causing the darkness to ripple.

"Stop invading my thoughts, then." Lucifer countered.

The world rippled again. Suddenly, instead of existing in endless serenity, he went back to having a physical form. There he was, dressed in one of his favourite three-piece suits, whole and complete, like how he was before...

"Before I gave you a much needed make over?" She asked sweetly.

Oh.

There she was.

Tall, pale, naked, and the literal definition of beautiful. With long hair that might have as well been made of tamed flames and coal-like eyes, she was a creature to be reckoned with.

Lucifer shuddered, sticking his hands in his pockets when they began to tremble violently. He knew that he should have been more scared. Was this what Michael's energy was doing to him or was this just a dream?

"Oh, you can't hide behind your brother's robes forever!" Lilith laughed, "How did you even survive this long being so stupid, your highness?"

He didn't want to survive.

"And that will be remedied soon enough. Don't worry. It will be my personal gift to all your Father's creatures. I'll have you begging for me to end you."

Lucifer scoffed. Even her torture hadn't broken him enough for that, or had it? He had wanted to die but he had never-

"Had wanted?" She gasped, hand flying to her chest, "Have you somehow reclaimed your will to live?"

For them. 

"Ah." She sighed, "She's already managed to fill your head with lies hadn't she?"

The Detective never lies!

"Well, _that's_ a lie." She laughed, "She's lied to you a thousand times. Every time she tells you that she _loves_ you for example? No one could love you, my king. Trust me, I would know, being the first one who was foolish enough to try and all that."

Lucifer was going back to drowning.

"I'll kill you." She promised, pointed teeth flashing in the dark, "I'll make a show of it for demons, angels, and humans all to see. I'll have fun with your adorable pet humans too. Party for all!"

No! Not them! Not-

No!

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer woke up, gasping. He instantly knew that that hadn't been a dream. He didn't know what it was though, but the devil was sure that war had officially just begun.


	7. Devil On My Shoulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we've made it to MAY.
> 
> Title: Devil On My Shoulder by Faith Marie

He knew that he should get up now.

Even with the weird vision of sorts, Lucifer was still relaxed. Happy. He wished that he could stay like this for a few thousand years. Whatever he was lying on was a bit uncomfortable and too short for him, but that hardly seemed to matter. The constant aches throughout his body, courtesy of the blackness coursing through his veins, were a bit tamer. They weren’t gone or even painless, but Lucifer was just… happy.

Why was he happy? 

It didn’t add up.

“So, if I’m getting this right, demons popped up from below and they possessed the bodies of these two dudes to murder our victims?” Miss Lopez, scribbling something in a notebook before turning to type something into a laptop.

“Uh huh.” The Detective replied.

“And these demons are here because they… have some beef with Lucifer.” Miss Lopez theorized.

“Yes.”

“Because he’s the King of Hell.”

“Was.” Lucifer corrected, finally finding the will to move, “I _was_ the King of Hell, Miss Lopez. I’m more… retired now.”

“Lucifer!”

The Detective practically ran over to his side, checking his face and pushing his hair away from his forehead. He almost protested her over-protectiveness and coddling, a bit instinctively and a bit because Miss Lopez was right there. He still had enough dignity to refuse showing weakness in front of their bubbly friend.

“You’re okay?” She asked, helping him up into a sitting position. Lucifer let her, sighing in relief when she sat next to him, prodding him for visible injuries. It was pitiful, but he missed her. He wanted her close to him every second of every day.

“I’m fine, Detective.” Lucifer replied, groaning, “Actually, I… I can hardly remember the last time I felt so… good.”

“You have your brother to thank for that.” Miss Lopez pipped up, “Glad to see you awake though. You look kinda cute when you sleep.”

Cute? 

_Cute._

It really was the end of his days. Dear Old Dad must be having stomach pains from all the laughter he was doing at him these days.

“What does Amenadiel have to do with this?” He grunted, leaning into the Detective, almost subconsciously, as she rubbed his back, “And I can assure you, Miss Lopez, I have never looked cute in _any_ of my years of existing.”

“Yeah. Right.” the forensic scientist rolled her eyes, “And not Amenadiel. Your other bro. Though I’m guessing you have a lot. Like a _lot_ , lot. But I mean your twin. The man, or, well, the angel himself. Michael.”

“She met Michael?” Lucifer paled, turning to his lover, eyes wide.

“I thought he was a ghost at first.” Miss Lopez supplied, “I thought that you’d died and turned into a ghost or something, dude. You guys look so alike that it’s almost scary.”

“I am far more handsome.” He huffed, smirking when it made the Detective giggle. Anything to hear that sound from her. Anything at all.

“He’s pretty cool.” Miss Lopez shrugged, “A bit too bossy though.”

“Always has been.” Lucifer agreed, hating the fond smile he caught on his lips. He _hated_ his brother. He always will.

“I can’t believe you’re the actual devil.” Miss Lopez shook her head, smiling.

He turned back to the Detective after a moment, faintly registering that the tiny woman was serious.

“She’s been taking it really well.” The Detective shrugged, “Crazy well actually.”

“You…? How?”

“I saw Michael’s wings and his weird glowy eyes and what he said… I just knew.” Miss Lopez shrugged, “Besides, you’re one of my closest friends, Lucifer. Of course I’ll help.”

Was this because divinity was revealed to her by an angel rather than... Well, him? Was it because she had always had remarkable faith? Was she going to have some sort of breakdown but her reaction was being delayed for some reason?

“With what?” He asked instead, hoping that he didn't look too stupid as he gaped at her.

“Whatever happened in hell.” She told him, “Michael said you’d need my help. Chloe wouldn’t tell me much but I totally know about the poison thingie.”

“What?” Both he and the Detective stuttered, sharing a look before turning to the scientist.

“Detective!”

“I didn’t tell her.” The Detective stated.

“Then how could she possibly know?” He demanded, feeling anger slowly return to him.

“ _She_ ,” Miss Lopez pointedly declared, walking over and grabbing his arm, “saw your arm, buddy.”

Lucifer flinched violently, yanking his hand back and almost causing the Detective to fall off the cot. His girlfriend straightened up and pulled him close, her fingers caressing his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down. Miss Lopez didn’t comment on his reaction, just giving him a sad look before resuming her explanation.

Lucifer hated himself all the more for this.

“I’m a forensic scientist.”

“So?”

“So?!! Did you even look at your arm? Lucifer, is it spreading that fast?”

“Miss Lopez, what are you talking-”

He halted, freezing at the sight of his left arm. The Detective’s hand tightened on his other hand. There on his pale skin, the black lines extended. The poison had spread to his forearm, bisecting it into two equal parts. From there, it trailed to his hand, spreading over the palm of his hand and to the tips of his fingers in a strange web and then to the back of his hand in an odd pattern. It looked a bit like a jagged line before his knuckles, a vibrant black with how a thousand tiny black tendrils seemed to pour into it.

That hadn’t been there this morning.

"If you thought I wouldn't notice...." Miss Lopez frowned, "I mean, it totally looks like its making a clear way through your veins and towards-"

“What time is it?” Lucifer breathed.

“About… one a.m.” Miss Lopez supplied after consulting her phone. She leaned by the counter surveying them, her eyes sad although her mouth was pulled into a small, reassuring smile.

“What?” He exclaimed.

It had been morning a few minutes ago! In the forest. With the Detective and-

_Michael._

“What did Michael do?” Lucifer fumed, clenching his fists.

“Some weird angel trick to get you to sleep.” The Detective told him, looking a bit apologetic, “He said waking you up would do more harm than good so I told him to bring you over here. I had no idea you’d sleep this long, Lucifer, although I should've seen it coming. You looked so peaceful… I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

Michael had… Of course.

_“Come on, Sammy!” Michael called out, jogging after his crying brother, “It’s a new spell! I made it myself! It’s going to be perfect!”_

_“Go away, Mikha.” He sniffed, rolling his shoulders. His wings, white and luminescent, popped into view._

_“No.” Michael simply declared, rolling his own shoulders, allowing his wings to appear. They were so black that they might have as well glowed in their own way in the darkness around them. They were also one of the handful of differences between the two brothers._

_“It won’t work.” He sniffed again, angry with himself, “I’ll just never sleep again!”_

_“Even angels need sleep.” Michael rolled his eyes, hugging his brother with one arm. He lead him to a seating position, wrapping his arms around his twin when the other boy began to sob._

_“I’ll figure out a way.” He declared, “Even Amenadiel was laughing at me! Why am I the only one who gets bad dreams? It’s not fair! Does Dad hate me that much?”_

_“Shh.” His brother soothed, “Let me try. Just once. What is the worst that could happen?”_

_“You could put me into a slumber I shall never awake from.” He gulped._

_“I would never do that!”_

_“You would not intend to!”_

_“Do you trust me, Sammy?”_

_“Always.”_

“We found the bodies your demons must’ve possessed.” Miss Lopez told him, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Lucifer wasn’t sure why he was grateful for that. He wanted to go into a rant about his asshole of a brother, but he was already too tired. He wanted to go back to sleep. The conversation with _her_ lingered on the edge of his consciousness. The comfort brought upon him by Michael’s trusty spell was taking its sweet time to wear off. Lucifer hated himself for clinging on to it.

“Ella suggested that we could figure out their movements.” The Detective cleared her throat, “Track them.”

“You will do no such thing!” He thundered, rising to his feet.

“Why not?” The Detective challenged, “I want to have a few words with this Lilith.”

No. No. No!

This could not be happening,

The thought of the Detective meeting _her_. Lucifer could already feel the panic in his chest. His vision blurred. Darkness ate away at the corners of his eyes.

“Lucifer?” 

“I’m fine.” He bit out, allowing the Detective to help him back down to the cot, “Perfectly fine.”

“Lucifer-”

“No!” He bristled, raking a hand through his hair, “Detective, you _cannot_ meet _her_! Either of you. You have no idea what she is capable of!”

“She hurt you!” The Detective almost yelled. Judging by the shock on Miss Lopez’s face, she hadn’t known that.

“What difference does that make?”

“Lucifer, I can’t even believe you.” The Detective sighed, holding his gaze. The anger and the hurt in her eyes made him want to destroy dimensions for her. What use would that be though when he knew that he was the source of her suffering? “First, you just hang around doing nothing, refusing to help everyone figure out a way to keep your ass from dying. Then, you just casually explain how Trixie and I and everyone would be totally fine with you dying. Now, you just… Lucifer, please stop this. This isn’t you.”

What was him though? Lucifer had no idea how to answer that. He’d done his hardest to avoid seeing his therapist and now the Detective was the one asking all the hard questions and giving him all the insane things to think about.

“We just want to help.” Miss Lopez told him, looking like she was expanding copious amounts of energy to restrain herself from hugging him or touching him in any way, “We love you, dude. _All_ of us. Even Dan. Now, I know I don’t have all the details… Well, none of us do. All this angels and demons business… We’re your friends though. That has to count for something! And we will figure out a way to fix this. We just want to help!”

Everyone wanted to help, didn’t they?

They all wanted to help or to end him. There was no in-between. Sometimes, Lucifer found it impossible to breathe in the light of all these opposite motives and contradicting people.

Breaking him then trying to fix him. All the damn time. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone?

Lucifer hated it.

“Lucifer?” The Detective hesitated.

“Are you alright?” Miss Lopez bit her lip, “You’ve been quite for an awful long time.”

Oh. He hadn’t realized that.

“Tell me more about the case?” He said at last, doing his best to not meet their concerned gazes.

The two women shared a hesitant look before complying.

Lucifer listened to them, vowing that neither of them would come close to _her_ if he had anything to say about it.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

His plans had several problems, namely himself.

Lucifer was weak.

If he was learning anything from every pathetic minute he was allowed to live these days, it was that he was mostly helpless to protect himself much less protect those he… cared about very much.

_“Loved, Lucifer.” A voice that sounded a lot like Doctor Linda’s said in the back of his mind, “The word that you are looking for is loved.”_

It was painful to realize and even more painful to try and deal with.

Lucifer was one of the most powerful creatures in the universe. Alongside his twin, they were only second to their parents. The power of the Demiurge was not something to be trifled with after all. Even when he was stuck in hell, away from Michael, or when he’d cut off his wings, Lucifer hadn’t felt this helpless.

He always had a trick up his sleeve. A favour to call in… A few words here… Devil face there… An angle to play…

He seemingly had none of that now.

His body was decaying. His mind seemed to work to torture him. Worst of all, he had people to lose and protect. They were powerless. They had no idea what was coming. If Michael was freaking out, then the situation was even worse than Lucifer realized before.

What could a bunch of humans do?

The devil feared for them. He hadn’t had anyone to protect in such a long time (Mazikeen had often protected him more than he had protected her and she was not helpless, even against celestial threats).

Lucifer stared at the endless display of bottles in front of him with longing clear on his face. He knew what would happen if he tried to swallow anything though. That made him sick enough to abate some of his misery at least. It was about two in the morning. The Detective was asleep in his bed up in the Penthouse. He’d made his way downstairs, clad in a black silk robe and some boxers, after he ensured that the wonderful woman dropped off into a peaceful slumber. LUX had not opened for a while. His staff could only do so much... It was struggling a bit seeing that Lucifer himself had no interest in performing in it these days and that Maze had apparently gone off on some hunt a few days before his return. He was sad to see the club empty, but he also could not care less. It was all terribly confusing.

What could he possibly do?

A drink would have been a great help just about now.

“Having fun, are you?” Lucifer glared at the ceiling, “This is your wish, isn’t it, Dad? Seeing me die? No mum to talk you out of it now. I guess you’ve finally made up your mind about getting rid of your biggest mistake, huh?”

His eyes were not shiny. He was tired of all these emotions. Sometimes, he missed his time in Hell. Not his last visit. Not the Pit. He missed some of his time there with Maze despite how much he hated it. He missed going for centuries without having to feel a thing. Granted, the emptiness and the numbness would always give way to a grand “mental breakdown” as Doctor Linda would probably call it. Lucifer wasn’t too sure. It only happened every few hundred years though. Who cared?

He brought his hands to his chin and prayed, telling himself that it was the best option.

“Brother.” Michael nodded, relaxing just the tiniest bit when he found Lucifer sitting alone at the bar with no apparent threat. It wasn’t even visible; not to anyone who didn’t know the archangel. However, Lucifer hadn’t spent billions of years by the prick’s side for nothing. 

Should he be touched by his twin’s concern? Lucifer could only feel anger and repulsion.

“Michael.” Lucifer greeted, “Care for a drink?”

Michael shook his head, good little soldier as he was. Lucifer shrugged. He’d only been trying to be polite.

“You do not drink though any more.” Michael observed, taking a seat next to him, “Or eat. Is it another effect of the venom?”

“You tell me.” Lucifer smirked, “Shouldn’t all your magnificent research be yielding some good answers by now?”

“I have close to nothing.” Michael replied, sighing, “No one does.”

“Fascinating.”

“Heaven is in disarray, brother.” Michael told him, “You have no idea how chaotic it is up there at the moment.”

“And I wonder who’s fault is that?” Lucifer challenged. Michael didn’t rise to the bait. The asshole wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “What’s all the chaos for?” He asked after a moment, nonchalant, “Not that I care, but you know… Since you brought it up and all that.”

Why would he care about his old home? About the place the shunned him? About the family that abandoned him? About his brothers and his sisters and all the buried memories suddenly resurfacing as of late?

The thought of it alone was absurd.

“You are dying.” Michael stated.

“Yes, so?”

“How does Chloe Decker put up with you all day long, brother?” Michael marvelled, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Beats me.” Lucifer shrugged, smiling. He couldn’t help but smile any time the Detective was mentioned. She was the light of his days; his literal miracle. Once he let go and allowed himself to be with her… pretending was almost impossible. It was ridiculous, he knew as much, but why not indulge himself a little if he could only live so much and find joy in so little?

Michael stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a small laugh. Lucifer hated himself for joining along. Both of them seemed to realize that they were laughing together like they had done a million times before at the same moment. They sobered up at the same time, clearing their throats and straightening up a bit in their bar stools.

“So,” Michael began, “why did you call me here, brother? Have you finally regained enough of your sanity to stop resisting my aid?”

“It’s more like I lost whatever remained of my sanity.” Lucifer shrugged, “But, yes, something along those lines. Protect her.”

“Chloe Decker?” Michael asked despite being fully aware that there is one person Lucifer could talk about like that.

Lucifer nodded. “The Detective. Beatrice Decker, her little offspring, too. Everyone else. Miss Lopez for example.”

“The talkative, short woman?”

Lucifer nodded again in conformation.

“She thought I was you as a ghost.” Michael told him, a crease in his brow, “Is that a strange new human myth or something?”

Lucifer snorted, wondering if he should tell on Azrael or not.

“I think Amenadiel can protect Doctor Linda and his spawn, yes?” Lucifer mused.

“They are sufficiently protected and taken care of at the moment.”

Lovely. Whatever that meant.

“Detective Douche too. Daniel Espinoza. I don’t think any harm will come to him, but he spends a lot of time at the precinct and around us in general. Better safe than sorry. Do you need a photograph of him or something?”

“No. That would not be necessary.” Michael shook his head, “I know everyone important in your dubious life here on Earth, brother. I have done my research.”

“Stalking.” Lucifer corrected, sighing in exasperation, “It’s called bloody stalking. Is it what you and Azrael have bonded over in my absence? I’m sure you could have found something less… creepy.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I have not talked to Rae-Rae in hundreds of years.” Michael confessed, “She rarely, if ever, visits heaven. Only drops off souls and immediately flies away. She thinks I don’t know, but it’s because sometimes it hurts; wandering the streets of the Silver City without you there to annoy everyone.”

“Don’t.” Lucifer bristled, jaw tensing. He wanted to punch Michael for daring to say those things. How could he make it sound like it was Lucifer’s fault that he wasn’t there any more?

“If I recall correctly, and believe me, Dad has ensured that I always do, I never left.” Lucifer growled, “I was _thrown out._ Quite rudely if you ask me.”

“What price are you willing to pay?” 

“For what?” Lucifer questioned, “I’d hate to pay _you_ of all creatures anything, but desperate times and all that, am I right?”

“Lifting your ban.” Michael told him, casual and relaxed, almost as though he hadn’t just… “I am attempting to work on it. With Dad himself if I can.”

“Why now?” Lucifer breathed, desperately trying to calm down. If he lost his ability to breathe or passed out in front of his brother, he didn’t think he’d have enough dignity or self-worth left to try and put his plans to action.

“You need to heal. Our powers are always optimal in the Silver City. The company of other angels could do you good. You would be as safe as can be and-”

“You never advocated for any of that nonsense when I burned in that lake of fire for millennia.” Lucifer growled, “Why now? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“This has never happened before.” Michael explained, still nonchalant, “You are going to be obliterated from existence, brother. Do you think that that is a matter any angel can just ignore?”

“You’d throw a bloody party.” Lucifer laughed, bitter and poisoned, “You’d dance in these so-called streets that miss my presence. All you angels, my brothers and my sisters, will rejoice. The world would have been cleansed of the taint of evil, wouldn’t it?”

“You are God’s favourite son.”

“Amenadiel is.” Lucifer corrected, “Didn’t you get the memo?”

Michael gave him a long stare, almost uncomprehending, before nodding in acceptance. That was what Michael did, wasn’t it? Accept anything their Father did and move on. No questions asked. No emotions expressed.

Lucifer, had he not been about to explode with fury, would have almost felt bad for his twin.

Maybe it was how they were sitting, close and scheming together like they had so often so long ago, but Lucifer was starting to feel tiny morsels of emotions towards his brother which could not be described as hatred or rage. That was unacceptable.

Michael probably deserved to be the favourite son.

He was the perfect son after all, wasn’t he? Annoyingly so. He was level-headed and calm, a perfect soldier to win any battle. He’d won more than enough of those too. He’d blindly served for millennia, sacrificing everything all the time. Lucifer had trouble remembering the last time he’d seen his brother laugh, happy and uninhibited. He was willing to bet that he hadn’t done a lot of that in his absence. How could he have when Lucifer had spent their last few hundred years together working to find ways to get his twin to laugh and have fun again?

Not that he cared of course.

It was Michael’s fault for being so stupid. He could have left. He could have… done something. Anything. When it was clear that their Father had hardly ever tolerated the site of Michael, always favouring Lucifer instead, Lucifer had struggled to understand how it was him who rebelled instead of his abandoned brother. Even their Mother had hardly payed attention to Michael (not that she really payed much attention to any of them after a while)

“Your plan is foolish.” Lucifer finally declared, wishing he could just punch the living daylights out of his brother for even suggesting such a thing. He was too tired for it though. Too weak. Getting up from this bar stool alone was going to take some effort once Michael left. “I would rather be removed from existence than go back to heaven.”

“Even if meant that you can be with Chloe Decker forever?”

“What?”

“We both know where she is going once she dies, brother. It is clear as day.” Michael explained, “Some place you can never follow at the moment. Were you to live, you would then be separated from her for the rest of time, same as you would be were you to die at the hand of whatever Lilith did to you. If I can manage to lift the ban… It would only benefit you in the long run.”

“You’re out of your mind.” Lucifer laughed, “That’s it. You’ve gone _completely_ insane! The job has finally gotten to you, huh, brother?”

Michael didn’t say anything, staring at him expectantly.

“What does Dear Old Dad have to say about this?” Lucifer wondered after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. 

He just wanted to go to sleep. This was too much. He couldn’t handle it. How long before that manifested in something more than his wide eyes, his laboured breathing, and the obnoxious tremors that seemed to be in control of his body?

The devil felt as though he was falling apart.

“We can find a way to make it happen.” Michael evaded, “It is about time too.”

“What made you change your mind? Why now?”

“I was not a hallucination of yours, brother.” Michael reminded him, “I am the one who pulled you away from the clutches of certain death. I saw the extent of what those fowl, cruel creatures did to you. For _thousands_ of years. I healed you. I stayed with you that horrible week. I did my absolute best to care for you and nurse you back to the closest you can be to health. Does that mean nothing to you?”

It didn’t.

Of course it didn’t.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” Lucifer growled, getting up, “I was doing fine on my own. This was a mistake, Michael. Go back to licking Dad’s divine boots or whatever pathetic job He has for you nowadays.”

“I have the job of helping you.” Michael countered, unaffected by the jab as usual, “I will not fail.”

Lucifer did not dignify that with a response. He limped to the elevator, back as straight as could be, trying his hardest to not pass out or something. When the elevator doors pinged shut, he sighed in relief, slumping into himself. Blindly, he made his way to bed, collapsing next to the beautiful form of the slumbering Detective. He wrapped his arms around her, not bothering to take off his clothes or to get under the covers. She hummed in response, relaxing bit before resuming her snoring.

He would only stay for a few minutes. Just enough to calm down. He needed to feel her body lined up next to his, to bask in her warmth in some vain attempt to combat the coldness occupying his body as of late. He would not fall asleep.

If tears began to fall from his eyes, Lucifer tried to not think about it. Michael’s proposal had been too much. Had he had any of his usual energy or strength, he would’ve probably tried to beat his brother to a pulp for that. His poor club would have been wrecked too. Was that something positive to think about?

It didn’t feel like it.

Violence would have soothed the ache boiling deep within him. It would have been a release. The demons had taken every single form of release from him, hadn’t they?

A broken sob escaped his lips. He hid his face in the Detective’s hair, grateful that she was still asleep at the very least.

His meeting with Michael had been almost useless. He didn’t even ask of him what he wanted (Other than protection for those he… cared about). It had gone worse than expected.

Lucifer had no idea what he was supposed to do next. Perhaps he would have to go find _her_ and face her down on his own.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

When he was sure that enough time had passed for Sammy to drop into sleep, as expected, Michael made his way to his brother’s bedroom. It had no doors, but oh well.

A muttered incantation and one dangerous instant where Sammy almost opened his eyes upon having his face touched later, Michael was done.

His twin would sleep now, uninhibited by nightmares. Since he’d only done the same for him the previous night, Sammy wouldn’t sleep for quite as long as he had. Michael went easy on the spell though. Just in case.

It wasn’t as if his brother wouldn’t know, but still…

He was only trying to help.

Sometimes, he feared that his brother would never forgive him.

Sammy was the only person who had ever loved him, as far as Michael knew. He had been only one person’s favourite and that one person was his twin; with his mischievous eyes and silly jokes.

Seeing him that broken had broken something inside Michael himself.

It was time for everything to change. He was ashamed that it had taken Lucifer being tortured like that and left to die for him to realize that.

Better late than never though, right?

That was what Michael told himself as he set off to try and find Lilith for the hundredth time any way.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer leaned back against the stall, wiping at his mouth and mourning the fate of his poor suit. It was one of the older, simple black ones though. Besides, his suits were too baggy for him these days.

Lucifer flushed the toilet, closing his eyes against another wave of nausea that erupted in his stomach. He'd only managed to gag and throw up some bile mixed with a strange, black substance. The devil hadn't eaten or drunk anything to trigger this either.

"Wow, drunk in the precinct at eleven in the fucking morning." Daniel sneered, glaring at him as he made his way out, "Real classy, Lucifer."

"Love you too, Daniel!" Lucifer called out to the man's retreating back, coughing due to the burning sensation at the back of his throat. He clutched at his midsection, wondering when the other man had managed to find his way here.

"But I thought you only loved me, my king." She pouted, genuinely hurt and upset, "Have you already forgotten me?"

Lucifer tried to get up. He fell down on his hands and knees, back to the dirty floor.

She laughed.

He tried to get up again, scrambling to fight the tantalizing fear spreading through him.

The last thing he heard were heels clicking on the tiled floor before the world became black.


	8. In the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Title: In the End by Linkin Park. I mean;
> 
> "I tried so hard and got so far 
> 
> But in the end, it doesn't even matter 
> 
> I had to fall, to lose it all 
> 
> But in the end, it doesn't even matter. 

Lucifer screwed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to “practice mindfulness”.

It was the Internet’s best bloody suggestion any way.

Sometimes, it worked. 

He dug his feet to the floor and focused on the sharp, miniscule pain of his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He tried to concentrate on how silky his expensive Armani shirt felt against his skin and how oddly comfortable its new bagginess was. He hated how he looked nowadays though. 

Was he even doing it right?

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

It wasn’t a load of crap despite how it was the first thing that popped up on his Google search while he was toying with the Detective’s phone the other day. That was what he was trying to convince himself at least. He couldn’t let _her_ win. No way. Enough was enough.

He’d decided to fight hadn’t he?

For the Detective.

“Ah, her again!” _She_ whined, stomping her foot angrily, “Honestly, my king, do you ever think of anything else? What has one human done that is having such a profound effect on you? Did you forget all our delightful lessons?”

Of course he hadn’t. Lucifer was afraid that he never would. Sometimes, he could go ahead and pretend to be someone similar to who he was _before_ for a glorious few hours at best. The rest of his day was spent avoiding flashbacks about his time in the Pit or questions about the effects of his time in the Pit.

Recently, there had been _her_ to deal with too. _She_ just popped up randomly whenever she felt like it, taunting him and torturing him. No one else could see _her,_ which made Lucifer wonder about whatever remained of his sanity. Did he have any sanity left? Where was Doctor Linda when one needed her?

_Focus on the feeling of-_

“Oh, I’ll give you something to focus on.”

Lucifer’s eyes flew open, an involuntary whimper escaping his lips. He knew that tone.

He tried to move, to jump off the chair, but his limbs were frozen. He was a prisoner of his own body. His stupid muscles wouldn’t listen and he couldn’t-

 _She_ slapped him.

“Is this enough to convince you that I’m real, your highness?”

Lucifer screamed.

His hand flew to his cheek and he finally regained control of his body, jumping off the chair.

_It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real._

_She_ just sighed and shook her head, almost like a mother observing the silly actions of her unruly toddler. She raised two fingers to her temple in mock-salute before disappearing.

Lucifer ran.

Again, he slammed into Daniel.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Daniel sneered, pushing him away, “Chloe has been gone for like two minutes.”

He’d tried to ignore _her!_ He had!

“I just… I couldn’t...” He stammered, shaking his head, hoping to clear the fog overwhelming his senses, “I… I just need...”

“You need to grow a pair and start taking some responsibility like the rest of us do.” Daniel told him, arms crossed, glaring at him with enough ferocity and hatred to make the cockiest, most flippant version of Lucifer recoil, “What the hell are you even on? Did you go to England to come up with some new drug blend or something?”

Lucifer was still staring at him, open-mouthed. He knew that he should say something. How much had Daniel even seen? Why was it Daniel that he always ran into?

“Excuse me, D-Daniel.” He mumbled, pushing past the man and out of the empty conference room him and the Detective were spending most of their time in now that she noticed how uncomfortable people and everything they did made him nowadays.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"Look!" Dan called back, whipping around. Lucifer halted. He didn't turn to face the other man, busy as he was with focusing on not toppling over from panic, dizziness, and exhaustion. He was listening intently though.

Dan knew as much.

"I don't know what's your deal and I _don't care,_ but if you think that you're gonna keep Chloe tricked by... whatever _this_ is, think again." Daniel growled, "She's smart. She'll figure out that she can invest her time in literally anyone but _you_ and get better results. Honestly-"

"Yes, thank y-you, Daniel."

"What?"

"Thank... thank you." Lucifer chortled, feeling the tears shimmering at the edges of his blurry vision, "But I already know a-all of that. You can just... go back to doing whatever d-d-douchey things you do all day."

He hadn't even said it maliciously. It wasn't a quip or an insult or even an attempt at defending himself. It typical Lucifer fashion, he'd called him a douche in the same way anyone else might have called him "Dan" or "Detective" or "Espinoza".

Dan's blood boiled. 

A voice at the back of his head was telling him that something was wrong with their "devilish" civilian consultant.

Dan just simply retorted that _everything_ was wrong with that bastard.

He watched the taller man limp away, in a hurry yet almost afraid of moving rapidly, trembling like a kitten that had been left out in a terrible storm for too long.

A few months ago, Dan would've followed.

Now, he just dropped the reports for Chloe's new weird case on the table, focusing on trying not to think about why his ex-wife and the world's most famous playboy suddenly decided to work from behind closed doors when they were already so... intimate to begin with.

He hated Lucifer Morningstar with every ounce of his existence. 

The time the other man had spent doing-who-knows what had only seemed to exacerbate the raging inferno of pure loathing that took over Dan's mind and heart any time he laid eyes on Lucifer or even thought about him.

Sometimes, he wondered if visiting another therapist, since Linda Martin was unavailable, was necessary.

Other times, he wondered if wishing that Lucifer Morningstar would just get what he deserved or, better yet, _die_ and give them all break made him a horrible person.

He would never kill Lucifer or anything. Of course not.

That didn't mean that a significant part of him had not begun wishing for that scenario to morph into reality at some point during the past six months or so. 

In reality, Daniel Espinoza had no idea just how close he was to having his horrible little wish come true.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“It’s like he’s too tired to be tired any more.” Chloe sighed, almost incapable of tearing her eyes away from her slumbering boyfriend. He was curled up on his side, facing them, an arm draped across his eyes and the other dangling limply off the pathetic cot. “I mean, despite all our stakeouts and late nights and everything, I can still count the number of times he nodded off before all this on one hand.” 

The three of them had just came back from interviewing a possible witness (who had turned out to be completely useless, a druggie who’d been too high to even register any marked demon signs). Lucifer had stopped mid-sentence and made a bee-line for the cot that he’d been spending so much time sleeping on as of late. He just flopped to his side, mumbled a choked apology, and promptly gone to sleep.

She knew that he’d been pushing the limits of how long he could stay up fpr ages. If he’d spent the time before that being tortured in hell, chances are that Lucifer probably couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to sleep comfortably on his own. 

She made her way to him, shaking her head at Ella when the forensic scientist moved closer to him. Lucifer was being even jumpier than usual these past few days. Asleep as he was, anyone _other_ than Chloe touching him was a recipe for a truly spectacular disaster. She wasn't sure how he could tell she laterwas the one touching him, but he only seemed to _relax_ any time she did.

Chloe hefted his leg to the cot and raised his arm off of the floor, kissing the back of it and intertwining their fingers for just a few seconds before laying it down next to him. She hated the black gloves he always wore these days to hide the poison. She'd only recently gotten to allow herself to enjoy the pleasure of holding his hand in her own. Lucifer mumbled something and whimpered. She hushed him, wishing it were any other situation so that she could film him and tease him about being adorable later. Ella handed her a hufe, fluffy, red blanket, muttering something about how she'd grabbed it from her apartment that morning because "Lucifer always seemed cold".

She smiled at her friend, tucking the sick devil in and spending longer than necessary just stroking his face and playing with his soft, untamed curls.

“Well, at least he’s resting.” Ella tried her hardest to smile, arranging the long stack of reports she had on her desk in a way she could manage. “No nightmares?”

Ella had seen him have one a few days ago, right here in the lab. Neither Lucifer nor Ella seemed to have recovered from it. Apparently there had been “too much hugging” and “no where near enough hugging” involved in that incident.

“Nope.” Chloe shook her head. He slept like he had _before_ actually, snoring occasionally and possessing all ability to respond of a dead-

Bad comparison. Bad, bad comparison. 

“Michael doing his...” Ella faltered, tracing a finger over her own face in an odd, completely inaccurate, mimic of whatever Michael's little trick was.

“Nope.” Chloe shook her head again, “I haven’t seen him ever since we first visited the crime scene actually.”

Maybe Lucifer shouldn’t come to the precinct anymore. Maybe he should go rest in a proper bed. It wasn’t like they’d gotten anywhere with their investigation. It was just dead end after dead end. Chloe was trying very hard to keep a level head.

They'd manged to find who the bodies had belonged to, sure. They'd interviewed a _lot_ of people. Lucifer was even helping some times! Yet, they had gotten essentially no where in finding out where Lilith was.

As far as they knew, she'd had her own body and she was the one to kill the first two people for two of her demons to occupy. Then, one of those bodies was vacated and another person a few blocks away from their primary crime scene became possessed by a demon.

Lilith was not building an army of demons though. It was nothing like the fiasco with Dromos and Kinley. She seemed to be staying under the radar, waiting for... something.

Chloe could hardly sleep, imagining a woman with all the attributes of a monster popping up out of nowhere and taking Lucifer away again. She envisioned him chained up in a small, dingy dungeon with flames eating away at walls dirtied by his own blood.

She needed to do more. _They_ had to do more. All this waiting and all these mind games were eating away at her.

They were running out of time.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“I have your powers now, my king.” _She_ explained for the millionth time, “Almost all of them. I have your grace, your essence... It… connects us. Can’t you feel it? Being able to talk to you like this is the least of it!”

_Not real. Not real. Not real._

“I am real.” _She_ sighed, “Why are you being so boring? You used to be so much fun! Maybe it is this favourite pet sex toy of yours affecting you this drastically? Perhaps I ought to come here and give her a taste of hell myself, directly from the hands of the Queen of Hell and-”

“DON’T YOU DARE LAY A FINGER ON HER!” Lucifer exploded. The stool he had been sitting on for the past two hours, listening to Miss Lopez ramble while trying to tune out _her_ constant taunts and the Detective’s continuous worried glances, clattered to the floor. He glared at _her,_ feeling anger and power that he hadn’t felt in literal millennia. Like this, he could reconcile himself with the King who had sent demons scampering back to Hell with a mere speech.

He'd been horrified of facing _her,_ tantalized by fear and horror and whatever powers centuries worth of torture sessions had on a person. Now though, standing like this, he could almost envision himself fighting back. He could almost feel the barest hints his fire and spirit, flickering feebly in his chest.

“There it is!” _She_ grinned, clapping eagerly with unmatched enthusiasm, praising him for something that only her own twisted mind could see and understand, “The spark that I love so much. You’re almost ready, my king.”

With another mock salute, _she_ vanished. Lucifer stared at the empty spot, unsure of what to do next.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Oh.

He turned around, shoulders hunching under the powerful gazes of the Detective and Miss Lopez.

_Bloody Hell._

“I can… explain?” He managed to get out, biting his lip, suddenly exhausted.

That was odd. The edges of his vision were black, but he was not having trouble breathing or “panicking”. Those two symptoms were usually correlated. He was dizzy and tired, a bit out of breath.

The Detective, taking pity on him, gently hooked her arm with his. She steered him by the elbow back to the cot, her steps slow and steady. He was having trouble keeping track of everything that was happening around him, but Lucifer couldn’t be bothered to think much of it at all.

“Flashback?” The Detective asked, tilting his chin so that he could look into her eyes.

Wishing he could lie to her, Lucifer shook his head.

He hated all these bloody terms. “Flashback”; who made that up? It sounded dumb. More importantly, who decided that celestials could get those?!!

Maybe it was just him. It had never happened to any of his siblings, as far as he knew. Even he himself hadn’t experienced anything like this nightmare he was trapped in despite everything he had been through before. 

Why was everything so different now?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Detective.” He smiled, “You know the answer to that.”

She asked him that question at least once a day. Occasionally, like right now, he’d just grin and marvel at her beauty instead of lashing out.

Anything for the Detective.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"You will come to me of your own accord." She told him, suddenly appearing in the Detective's bedroom.

Lucifer had been staring at the ceiling and tracing Enochian symbols on the Detective's exposed back. He'd only just managed to get his poor lover to close her eyes and get some rest. He tried to remind himself that he was just imagining _her_ and hence _she_ could not hurt the Detective or the little urchin asleep nearby.

"I can hurt them all I want." _She_ giggled, gleeful. Her eyes flashed white, white with his power. Lucifer bristled, loathing how weak he felt and how pathetic his body had become.

Maybe he should ignore _her._ He hadn't tried that one yet.

"You've tried ignoring plenty of times while we were having fun downstairs together, my king." _She_ laughed, "Don't you remember where that got you?"

_"Well, well, well! Our itsy bitsy king thinks he can just ignore this!" She announced, shaking her head._

_Demons jeered and yelled._

_"So cute, I know." She sighed, "It seems that all the time he's abandoned us in favour of frolicking around with humans has turned his mind fuzzy. We'll jog your memories for you, my king. Don't worry."_

_Lucifer had never screamed that much in his existence._

_Even when his throat bled and his voice was choked off into a forced silence, his mouth seemed to get stuck in a silent, tortured scream._

"W-why are you dragging this out?" He asked, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on the slumbering woman lying half on top of him. That memory in particular had caused an uncomfortable jump in his heart rate and another violent fit of tremors to take over his hands. He couldn't ignore _her_ though, not when his body seemed to be lighting up in agonized recalls of what happened the last time he'd tried to.

"I'm bored." _She_ answered, plain and simple, plopping down to the floor. She sat there, cross-legged, and suddenly they were on the same eye level. Lucifer squirmed, nervous. She just laughed. "You'll come begging on your hands and knees for me to kill you and torture you. You'll tie yourself up and drop to the floor. You'll repeat every single word I have for you and you'll _obey_ like the good, little dog I trained you to be."

Lucifer couldn't see how that would happen.

He would do _anything_ to not be at her mercy again. To willingly go back... what could she even do for that to happen?

He was going to throw up just thinking about it. 

Dying was okay. The only drawback death had was making the Detective and the urchin sad. Going back there...

No way.

"Way." _She_ shrugged, "I can't believe you're really being this dumb. Perhaps, I've successfully managed to screw up that pretty little head of yours beyond repair."

 _She_ jumped to her feet, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his forehead. Lucifer couldn't move. When _she_ poked the Detective's cheek and smoothed back her hair before vanishing...

Whatever had survived of his fragile world came crashing down on his head.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

Chloe woke up to find him gagging in the en suite, tears streaming down his cheeks and chest heaving with massive, yet completely silent, sobs.

As much as she wanted to break down too, she had a job to focus on.

They will figure it out.

Eventually.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"You know you're not pathetic, right?" She asked once he could finally breathe again and she managed to coax him back to bed. He'd mostly looked dazed, allowing her to lead him while he probably had no idea where they were even going.

She waited for him to say something, but Lucifer remained silent, staring at the ceiling. She didn't imagine that there would be much she wouldn't give to know what was going on inside his head. She was familiar with his self-hatred, self-blame, and regard for showing most negative emotions as "weakness". Everything that had happened since he left...

Lucifer was different. There was no denying it. If what she'd been hearing about how time passed in Hell and if he'd gotten captured soon after he returned there... There were centuries of torture and pain that she couldn't begin to understand. Before that, there were also the millennia he'd spent there and just... Why did everything have to be a mess? Why couldn't any of this celestial stuff make sense?

Why couldn't the devil be someone invincible baddie?

Lucifer wasn't invincible; Lucifer was a man who spent most of his life being hurt in all sorts of ways.

She'd always thought that he was unbreakable, despite anything that ever befell him, but now... Maybe hell was enough.

"You," she turned to him, cupping his face in her hands, "are _not_ pathetic, Lucifer. You're not weak or pitiful or a... burden? Whatever it is that's going through your mind that's giving you this look, it's _not true._ I love you. You know that, don't you?"

Lucifer wasn't even looking at her, too lost in thought. Her best theory was that he'd accidentally fallen asleep again and he'd had another nightmare. Perhaps this particular nightmare was just the worst one yet? He was bordering on almost catatonic though and she was failing at trying to stay calm.

"We'll figure out this whole Lilith mess." She promised, caressing the side of his face, "Then, you'll have time to heal, Lucifer. That's how it goes. Trauma... It's not easy, I know, but... I'm here for you, okay? Is there anything I can do to help? Anything you want to talk about?"

No answer.

He was staring at his gloved hands now. Lucifer only ever wore long-sleeved shirts and gloves now. He refused to allow her to remove any of it, either getting angry or hurrying away any time she even broached the subject. She could only imagine how far the darkness had spread, taking over the already diminished planes of his body. Would it reach his face in a few days? Weeks? Would he go around wearing a mask then, like that masquerade party, or would it already be too late by then?

She focused on his eyes, a bit glassy and panicked, banishing the image of them unstaring and lifeless that seemed to pierce through her thoughts with the mission of tormenting her.

They had Michael. They had their friends. They had... so many things. Maybe she would never understand every thing going on, like whatever politics were in Heaven and Hell, but she understood the basics.

Find Lilith. Save Lucifer.

That was all that mattered, right?

She eased herself down, laying her head on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. Maybe it was only her imagination, but his heartbeat seemed out of rhythm. It was a bit irregular every few beats. Normal devil stuff? A newfound arrhythmia? Poison induced? Something else?

She hugged him close to her, wondering how two people could be so close yet so far away.

Lucifer, for his part, was already deciding what he was going to do.

No more hiding. No more lying to himself. Even the whole "living for the Detective" thing was a fantasy.

There was only one thing to do and he would be damned -more than he already was, mind you- if he didn't go ahead and do it.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

All in all, he ended up waiting two days for _her_ to show up again. It was so typical, showing up ten times a day to annoy him and fray his nerves then disappearing for two days when he desperately needed to talk to _her._

He wondered if he could listen to _her_ thoughts or appear in front of _her._ Theoretically speaking, although she was the one leeching away at his powers, he could. Lucifer couldn't be bothered to figure out how though. He was too tired to expand his strength uselessly like that. Besides, magic had never been his strong suit in the first place.

When _she_ showed up behind the Detective while she was arguing with Miss Lopez about some "new clue" they'd found, Lucifer had immediately excused himself to the toilet. _She'd_ pouted, pointing her chin at the Detective.

Lucifer's heart clenched. He couldn't get the image of _her_ being so close to the Detective out of his mind. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

"I see it you've finally realized it?" _She_ asked.

Lucifer nodded. He thought of the Detective. There was _nothing_ that he wouldn't do for her. Nothing at all.

"So, you're ready to come back home?"

And _she_ was suddenly close to him, literally materializing by his side. _She_ looped an arm around his shoulders, reaching up to press a kiss to his temple.

"Excellent." _She_ purred.

He flinched so hard that he almost fell.

"I missed you!"

"Why… why are you doing this?" He managed to get out, "Why do y-you hate me so much?"

Granted, everyone hated him. Even he hated himself. He wasn't cured or better. Actually, if they ever made it to the "peaceful" future the Detective talked about, Lucifer doubted Doctor Linda had enough years in her life to "cure" him. Actually, he was almost certain that whatever ailed him was incurable. 

A voice that sounded a lot like the Detective objected. Lucifer was a slave to her affections, but he still had trouble believing that they were real at times.

"You abandoned me." _She_ whispered, "You left. Over and over again. You had everything I could have ever wanted, but you always disregarded it and went in search for more. Did you seriously think that you just abandon us all down there to rot like the dirt you think we equate? The demons were tired of your bullshit and so was I. It was only a matter of time before I made it out of that _wonderful_ cell you and your family fashioned for me, don't you think?"

Lucifer didn't say anything. The repercussions of what he was about to do were already playing in his mind. He could almost feel the chains again. The cold, the darkness, the _pain._ He had never been a stranger to pain and suffering, but the Pit was just... too much. He didn't know if he could take it.

Could it be possible? Was this how everything was going to end?

"Why not just bring me back a-a month ago?" Lucifer asked, hating how shaky his voice was and how every cell in his body was screaming at him to get away, "Why let me escape in the f-first place?"

"I was bored." _She_ shrugged, "I wanted to see how long you can survive for. I can't even believe you've made it this long in all honesty. How far along has it spread?" She tugged on his jacket expectantly, face blank.

Lucifer registered the command, centuries worth of moments like this one burned into memory. With trembling hands, he managed to shrug his beautiful dark blue Burberry suit jacket off. His arm throbbed. He had been having trouble moving it for a week.

No sense in keeping _her_ waiting.

He tossed the jacket to the dirty restroom floor, the sterile white lights making everything look more bleak. A life time ago, he would have protested this treatment of his marvellous clothes vehemently.

He couldn't care less at the moment though.

Lucifer had trouble undoing his buttons. The Detective had been doing them for him more often than not after all since he still wore his suits to work. He tugged on the shirt, cursing his waning strength. He couldn't even tear apart some _fabric._ He'd really fallen hadn't he? Down and down and down. Sometimes, Lucifer was almost certain that he hadn't stopped falling ever since Michael had thrown him out.

Rolling _her_ eyes, _she_ tugged on his collar, turning him to face _her._ A tense exhale later and expensive buttons littered the tiles.

"I won't be so helpful next time, my king."

Lucifer didn't doubt it.

He untucked the shirt, pulling it off his shoulders with some difficulty before tossing it atop the jacket. He stood there, head bowed, shivering under _her_ scrutinizing gaze.

 _Her_ fingers were on him, tracing the poisonous lines. _She_ went from just under his clavicle, down over each of his protruding ribs, and then all the way down to jutting hipbone before crossing to the other side of his battered body. _Her_ nimble fingers were warm, _her_ touch light and almost tender. _She_ was inspecting _her_ own handiwork, grinning while he quivered and struggled to not pass out.

It was almost too much.

In all honesty, he had no idea how he was still breathing. The edges of his consciousness were... numb. It was an odd feeling. Distantly, he was numb and relaxed, too worn to care. Then, in the center of his mind and chest, more emotions than he could possibly understand waged their own, private war leaving him to deal with whatever carnage they left behind.

"P-please." He breathed, wishing he could find it in himself to pull away.

"Oh, am I making you uncomfortable?" _She_ pouted, pinching his cheek.

Uncomfortable wasn't even the start of it.

"I think you're gonna be even more fun now!" _She_ enthused, her eyes raking over his form with a hunger that made his insides freeze.

"I don't understand." He shook his head, "Aren't I just going to... die? Soon? Why... why do all of this? You have my g-grace. You have the throne to Hell."

It should've been impossible but she'd found a way to do it.

"Boredom." _She_ repeated, "Do you have any idea what millions of years in solitary confinement could do to person?"

Lucifer distantly remember what he knew about psychopaths and moral compasses. The boredom criteria had never been this real and he'd personally tailored torture sessions for some of humanity's most notorious psychopaths. 

"Besides, this should be fun." _She_ told him, "I had no idea anyone up there still cared what happens to you. To think Mikey wants to save you... So cute!"

Michael would've been useful just about now.

"Oh, nothing and nobody could ever be of use to you. Not against me anyways. Yes?"

"Y-y-yes." Lucifer clenched his eyes shut, bracing himself, "I go willingly and... and you leave them alone. _All_ of them."

"Awww." _She_ cooed, "You really think you have a say in this."

"Leave them."

"Beg."

Lucifer looked up, meeting _her_ eyes. Expectant and daring, waiting for him.

"Get on your knees and _beg,_ my king. Go on."

At this point he was more worried about whether or not he could possibly get up again if he got on his knees. It didn't seem like he was going to be getting up any time soon though. Also, it wasn't like he had any dignity left.

And for the Detective... For the urchin. For Miss Lopez. Damn, for even Daniel for all the time the other man had _almost_ been a friend before everything went wrong the night Charlotte died.

For playing monopoly and cuddling in bed and sharing jokes and drinking the best coffee and all the lovely little "friendly" outings. For his family here in LA and-

"Honestly, the inside of your head is like an entire fucking soap opera on its own." _She_ wrinkled her nose, disgusted, "Get on with it if you want your precious humans to stand a chance."

No one could understand what this meant. No one could possibly fathom the depth of what was being asked of him.

He was the Morningstar. The Lightbringer. God's brightest and most beautiful.

He was the King of Hell. The monster all monsters feared.

He'd never knelt like this before. Not even in the Pit. Not out of his own accord and by his own power anyway.

 _She_ could do whatever _she_ wanted too.

Lucifer's knees slammed to the floor. He managed to hold in his groan. He straightened his back a little bit, squirming in some vain attempt to make himself a bit less uncomfortable.

Oh, how he hated himself.

"Leave my friends be if... if I go with you." He whispered, eyes fixed to the ground, _her_ shiny leather boots at the very corner of his vision. "You and the demons... _No one_ lays a hand on them... Please."

"My Queen."

"My Queen." He repeated, succumbing.

"I'll do it." _She_ declared after what felt like a million years, raising his chin with a gentle push of her boot, "But you need to promise me one thing."

"Anything." He pleaded, thinking of the Detective and the urchin beaten and bloodied.

"When your brother finds away to free you, and believe me, he _will,_ you don't go with him." _Her_ grin was wicked, eyes ablaze with cruelty and apathetic sadism, "Whatever way him or anyone else, find, you fight back. Even if God Himself marches down to save you, my king... You stay with me because you _belong_ to me, understand?"

He would never be out.

If she cured him of the poison, and it sounded like she had a method of doing so if she wanted him to be her prisoner, then he would just exist to be tortured.

His Father would never help. Of course not. Lucifer was beneath His attention. He was probably glad that someone was stepping up to do what his Mother had talked Him out of all that time ago.

This was all His planning anyway, right?

However, if Michael or anyone else found a way to help...

But they would never suffer like he would. No harm would ever befall them, not hellish in origin anyway. That was all that mattered wasn't it? It wasn't like there was a scenario in creation in which he would ever catch a break much less find happiness.

Lucifer was done deluding himself with those lies.

Like this, at least his loved ones would be safe.

"I give you my word." He swore, a tear already making its way down his hollow cheek.

"And I give you mine."

Silence reigned for a few moments. Lucifer faintly wondered why no one was coming in. How long had it even been? Was the Detective looking for him? Was Miss Lopez?

She snapped her fingers and the sinks vanished in a glow of light. A portal opened, wide and ethereal, whatever was on the other side obscured by the vibrant glow.

"You know what to do."

With that, she vanished.

The portal remained.

Lucifer was trying to stand up again. There was no way in _anything_ that he was going to crawl into his eternal damnation. All these feelings and actions seemed contradictory to him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The door opened at some point. Lucifer was ready to chuckle at least, the image of some poor intern going on a bathroom break and finding... _this_ popping up in his mind.

He was really losing it.

It was no intern though.

Daniel walked in, groaning at the sight of him.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" 

Oh. He couldn't see the portal. Figures.

Lucifer tried to imagine how it looked like. There he was, on his knees on the floor in some dirty men's room, shirtless and...

"What's that on your... what's going on?"

He had no time to explain the poison to the other man. Daniel seemed frozen, unsure whether this some sort of practical joke or some real situation. If he had to guess, Lucifer would say that Daniel thought that he was on drugs or drunk or being his usual weird self.

If only...

Maybe it was the presence of his human sort-of-friend, but Lucifer finally found it in himself to stand. The process was slow and it took tremendous effort. It almost seemed like he was going to pass out or die before he made it through the portal.

He looked between the glow and the shocked, yet apprehensive, man. His cursed future and his best life here. Daniel wasn't the human that he would pick to represent his love for this place or to say his final goodbyes to, but he'd do in a pinch. Hopefully. It wasn't like he had many option anyway. Besides, knowing the Detective and her huge, kind heart that chose _him_ of all of his Father's creatures to bleed for and ache for alongside her daughter... He would never want to hurt her. Not on purpose.

He staggered towards the man, almost physically feeling whatever remaining scraps of strength he had left fading away. He wrapped Daniel in a lose hug, faintly realizing that this was probably the first time that he'd ever initiated a hug with one of his friends. Was it? Lucifer had trouble remembering.

"What are you doing?" Daniel yelped, pushing him away roughly, "Dude, seriously, can you stop it with all the... I don't even know what you're playing at now!"

"Goodbye, Daniel." Lucifer sighed, looking at the shorter detective with tear-rimmed eyes, "Can you tell the Detective that I truly... c-care for her? The urchin too? Miss Lopez and even Amenadiel and... and Doctor Linda. Baby Charlie... Look out for them for me. Please. It's all... all I could ask for. B-be safe too."

He had lost.

Again.

Why did he ever act like he could possibly win something?

Lucifer was almost certain that his Father would have granted him the job of the Angel of Failure had such a thing existed. Maybe he'd failed at that too?

"Goodbye."

"What are you even-"

Lucifer approached the portal, Daniel's words becoming muffled and almost muted. The light made his eyes hurt. He couldn't believe that he was going to do this, but there he was.

The end.

With a sob that seemed to tear him apart from inside out, Lucifer stepped through the portal and vanished off to become a prisoner of suffering again.

Not that he ever seemed to catch a break from that wherever he went.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Dan watched him stare at the mirror for a moment, crying before... trying to walk through one of the sinks?

What the hell?

What was that all over his upper body? Since when did _Lucifer Morningstar_ cry? He was so tired of this guy's bullshit and-

Dan saw it.

In a split second, the room became engulfed in white. He could feel whatever was on the other side pull at something deep within him, almost calling for him.

As he watched Lucifer limp through the strange glow and disappear within it, Dan's perspective began to change.

In the second it took for the thing to close up after Lucifer, his world shifted.

Dan couldn't voice it just yet, but he knew what it all meant. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew who, or more precisely _what,_ Lucifer Morningstar was.

He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing, not that anything seemed like it might be good ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine if it just ends here. (just kidding) 
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	9. Born For This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Born For This by the Score

“Dan!”

He couldn’t bring himself to turn around, preoccupied as he still was with staring at the spot where the portal had been.

The _fucking_ glowing portal that _Lucifer fucking Morningstar_ vanished into.

Maybe _he_ was the one on drugs.

“Dan!” She grabbed him by the shoulders, her eyes wild, “Where is he? Where’s Lucifer?”

“This is the men’s room, Chloe.” Dan found himself saying.

Why did he say that?

Was he in shock? He must have been in shock.

“Dan, focus!” She ordered, “Lucifer… Everyone I asked said that this was the last place they saw him walk into. Did you see him?”

“Lucifer’s a big boy.” Dan shrugged, “I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

None of the words coming out of his mouth made sense. They were too loud and too slow, almost fake and unrealistic. Was he even talking?

“Dan, seriously...”

Chloe looked scared. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this frantic.

“He walked through the wall.” Dan laughed.

She was looking at him as though he had lost his mind. Chloe was angry, undoubtedly blinded by worry for her millionaire boyfriend.

“What wall?” She frowned, “What the Hell are you talking about?”

“There.” He pointed to the mirrors, “He just disappeared into there, Chlo’.”

“He did what?” A new voice interjected. 

Dan’s eyes widened. 

See?This was the sort of bullshit Lucifer pulled for the sake of causing mayhem.

There he was, dressed in a strange long… something? A dress? One of those old Roman battle outfits? He looked a bit haggard, his hair a tangled mess of curls and his face covered by several small cuts and bruises. Otherwise, he was fine.

“Resident asshole is right behind you.” Dan stated, feeling clarity returning to him rapidly. Of course it was all some stupid joke.

“Where did he go?” Lucifer demanded.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”

“That’s not Lucifer.” Chloe supplied, “Michael.” She greeted.

“Very funny.” Dan rolled his eyes, “Michael, of all names. He’s… what? Lucifer’s estranged identical twin?”

“Something like that.” Chloe nodded, "Exactly like that actually."

“Where did he go?” “Michael” demanded.

“Look, man, this isn’t funny.” Dan seethed, “I mean, she was worried about you and-”

“Michael” walked up to them in two long strides. In a second, black feathers filled the crammed space. In the next, something grabbed his shoulders.

Almost instinctively, he closed his eyes. When he blinked them back open, Dan found himself in Lucifer’s Penthouse.

As if that day could get any weirder.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“So, you are saying that you felt a certain… pull towards the portal?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Dan groaned, “How about we talk about the fact that you have fucking wings and you can apparently teleport or something?!!”

This human was annoying him.

“There is no time for that!” Michael seethed, exasperated.

If Lilith had Sam… Was it too late already? How much time had passed down there? Had he already failed his brother?

Michael could not handle thinking about that.

“Answer him, Dan. Please.” Chloe Decker pleaded, “This is serious.”

“Right.” Daniel nodded, huffing a laugh, “Because this guy is Lucifer’s twin who happens to be the Michael who just wants to save Lucifer of all angels because Lucifer’s gone and got himself trapped in Hell. Again. Have you even _read_ the bible?”

“Do you claim to be knowledgable of the nature of the relationship between my brother and I simply because you read the _bible_ of all things?” Michael repeated, flabbergasted, “I had no idea humans could be this foolish and insolent.”

“Lucifer didn’t go and get himself trapped in Hell.” Chloe Decker fumed, advancing on the annoying man who was her ex-husband, “If you ever say that again, Dan, I swear… You have no idea what he’s been through!”

“Seriously? This again?” Daniel shook his head, “Oh, poor Lucifer Morningstar, blah, blah, blah. Do you have an idea what he put _me_ through? What he put _you_ through? And if this guy’s wings and everything are for real… Your poor, little boyfriend is the devil. The _actual_ devil. When you think that that asshole couldn’t get any worse, he goes ahead and-”

Chloe Decker might have punched him. 

She didn’t get the chance to though. In the flash of an eye, Michael had Daniel by the throat. He lifted the man clear off the ground effortlessly. His eyes shone a bright gold. His wings erupted behind his back again, extending to full length. Daniel sputtered and tried to bat his arms off his throat. It was to no avail of course. He scratched at Michael’s hands and tried to kick him, not even succeeding in making him bat an eye.

“You will not speak of my brother in this manner!” Michael thundered, “When I ask you a question, Daniel Espinoza, you answer it and then you remain silent. Understood?”

Daniel coughed out something, his movements becoming more frantic in his attempts to get free.

It did not sound like a positive answer.

“Understood?” Michael repeated, louder, his grip tightening.

“Y-y-yea… Yes!”

He threw him to the ground. The gold in his eyes simmered down. Michael forced himself to relax, tucking his wings away.

He just wanted his brother back.

“Did you feel a pull towards the portal?”

Daniel nodded, still in a pathetic heap on the ground. He rubbed his neck and tried his hardest to steady his breathing.

Pitiful creature.

“Sammy is in Hell.” Michael concluded, turning towards Chloe Decker.

Her brow furrowed for a moment, but she didn’t question him. She didn't even object to him using "Sammy". He could see fear suddenly grip her, but she remained strong. It was interesting to watch.

“So, how are we going to get him back?” She asked.

Michael sighed. That part was… complicated.

“How do y-you know that it’s H-h-hell based… on my question?”

Michael turned back towards him, eyes flashing gold. Daniel’s breath hitched. He didn’t say anything after that.

“Hell pulls in the guilty. Calls out to them.” Michael explained nonetheless, “You are obviously a specimen fit for that place.”  
Daniel looked like he was about to talk again, ever the irritating idiot, but Ella Lopez chose that moment to burst into the Penthouse.

“Uh, I thought you said I was part of the team?” She mused, dropping her bag by the bar and hurrying over, “Not cool, man. Is Lucifer okay?”

“He is back in Hell.” Michael supplied when Chloe Decker just stared at the ground, jaw tight.

“No.” Ella paled, “No way.”

“Not you too!” Daniel protested, scampering to his feet.

“Dan, I think you should leave.” Chloe Decker suggested, leveling him with a ferocious glare.

“He has wings!” Dan scoffed, “Your boyfriend is the devil! There was some sort of… of portal in the precinct’s bathroom, Chloe. This sort of shit doesn’t happen in real life!”

“Yeah, go process it.” Chloe Decker replied dryly, taking him by the elbow and guiding him towards the elevator, “Take your time too, Dan. We actually have things to do. Don’t bother coming back. Oh, and...” She hesitated, biting her lip, “Take care of Trixie, please? We need to figure this out. I have no idea how long that will take...”

She almost shoved him into the elevator when he nodded in response to her last request.

The room already felt lighter. Better.

Michael plopped down on the couch, sighing heavily. He would never show weakness like this in any other circumstances, but really…

“So… How does it work?” Miss Lopez questioned, sitting down next to him, “Do you just fly there and pick him up? Is the Big Guy gonna bring him back? Is-”

“My Father is… absent at the moment.” Michael explained, “If I could just go grab him like that, Miss Lopez, then I would have done so a long time ago.”

“Oh, buddy!” She threw her arms around him, squeezing his body. It felt weird and wrong, but it was also oddly soothing. No wonder humans did this “hugging” thing so much.

He still fidgeted and struggle to not push her away though.

“Awww, you even hug people like Lucifer does.” She gushed, “It’s by not hugging them, but like, I can totally still feel the love and everything. So cute, you guys!”

He nodded, not sure what she was even talking about. 

“Ella is fine.” She told him, “Unless you and Lucifer both share this whole being weird with names thing too?”

He didn’t answer her, already lost in thought.

“Why can’t you go get him?” Chloe Decker questioned, pacing the length of the living area, “Isn’t that what you did last time?”

He was more than happy that his brother had someone who cared for him this much. It was about time. The fact that it wasn’t him hurt a little bit, spreading an ache through a part of his chest that had been numb for millennia. It was an odd sensation that he did not enjoy. Actually, he could hardly tolerate it. Being around humans did that to an angel though. He was slowly learning that.

“Lilith and the demons have sealed Hell.” He confessed, “I am not even certain how. Only my brother should have had that sort of power...”

“If the poison is giving her his powers… his “grace” as you guys said...” The blue-eyed woman theorized.

“How much of his power can she use though?” Michael wondered, “How much does she have? This poison… How did she even come across something like it? There so many unanswered questions.” He sighed again.

If Lilith had enough power to seal Hell, was Sammy already…?

He couldn’t be though. Father might still help out. Michael himself will go find him. Something will happen and Sammy would not… He just could not…

It would not happen. Michael would never allow it.

“So… you can’t get through?” Ella summarized.

This was another problem. None of the angels would help him. He only had these humans and they were useless. They did not even understand the sheer disaster that was taking place.

They loved his brother though. That was for certain.

Would it be enough?

Michael did not think so.

“Aren’t there like… I don’t know… secret entrances? Hidden passageways? Someone to bribe to get you in or something? Some demon or… uh.. soul? Angel? I really don’t know.” Ella rambled, “But there has to be something, right?”

“There is one angel who could help.” Michael replied, “But...”

_“Gabriel, are you out of your mind?” Michael thundered, rushing into the room with barely concealed fury, “How dare you?”_

_“How dare I what, brother?” The blonde, blue-eyed, shorter angel wondered, busy sorting through some papers on the desk._

_“You announced that anyone who helps Samael will be committing treason against God!”_

_“I am certain that was a well-known fact before.” Gabriel frowned, “What is it to you?”_

_“He is dying!” Michael continued, “He’s… you haven’t seen what it’s like, Gabe. He needs our help.”_

_“What he needs and does not need became inconsequential and unimportant the moment you tossed him out of the Silver City.” Gabriel reminded him, azure eyes narrow, “You will not endanger our brethren to protect the Prince of Lies, the root of all evil.”_

_“Lilith grows strong, brother.” Michael tried, “Hell-”_

_“Can rule itself.” Gabriel shrugged, “If our Father does not will this to happen, then He will say so himself. Lilith aims to take the throne. No harm will befall any human. What happens in Hell of all places, brother, is none of our concern.”_

_“If she has Samael’s grace… that is an offence to all angels in itself!”_

_“Samael is an offence to all angels.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, “He has not been one of us in millennia, Michael, and for a good reason too. Have you forgotten or are you planning on falling like your beloved twin did?”_

“She would not help. I don’t think so, E-Ella.”Michael cleared his throat, “You are correct though. There must be some sort of way.”

“I do want to help!” A voice pipped up.

Chloe Decker jumped. Her hand flew to her gun and she whipped around, prepared for a fight.

Ella… 

She just stared as the new comer removed the hood from her face, something indecipherable in her eyes.

“Rae-Rae?” Ella croaked.

“Hi, everyone!”

“Do all angels feel the need to just pop in out of the blue mid-conversation when it suits them?” Chloe Decker groaned.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

“No, no, no!” He cried, “Detective, please!”

He was crying. She was crying too.

“Goodbye, Lucifer.”

And she leaves. She always, always leaves.

Lucifer had no idea how long he’d been trapped in the Hell Loop (sort of a Hell Loop? A glorified torture chamber? His worst nightmare? He didn’t know!). The Detective had already vanished countless times though.

Uriel…

His hands were never going to be clean. His brother’s blood, thick and hot, was never going to wash away.

_Please stop. Please stop. Please stop._

“You know, I was planning on having fun with you myself, my king, but I had a few things to take care of first.”

Lucifer sucked in a shaky breath. He knew that voice.

_Her._

He wondered if he was supposed to get off the floor. Everything hurt. His entire body seemed to be black with poison. A few loops ago, he’d seen his reflection in a puddle of blood (the Urchin’s blood. On the Penthouse floor. Near the piano. He was never going to re cover from that one).

His face… It wasn’t an endless blackness like his chest and arms. Instead, it was a meshwork of poisoned veins. Talking hurt. His vision was always fuzzy. He was sure that he’d stopped breathing a while ago. He didn’t need to breathe. Right? Lucifer wasn’t sure. It had been a long time since he could think of anything clearly.

“Why does she mean so much to you? _” She_ questioned, “I knew it was bad, but I had no idea to what extent...”

Lucifer didn’t answer. He slumped further to the ground, curling up on his right side where the pain seemed to be the dullest. 

He was so tired.

When was he going to finally go to sleep?

The Detective must have been lying. She wouldn’t miss him. No one would. If he went ahead and finally faded away just then and there, everyone, himself included, would be happier.

Funny how his original plan was coming true.

“I’m not sure whether or not I should let you die though.” _She_ frowned, “I mean, what if I just leave you like this… Human of sorts? Take your soul and trap it here forever… Hell’s most beloved toy! What do you think, my king?”

He couldn’t really think much. He just wanted it all to stop. Could _she_ even do something like this?

“Ah, you have no idea what I can do!”

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Azrael, this is a stupid plan.” Michael rolled his eyes.

“We’re already risking everything!” His little sister rolled her eyes, “Wrath of Dad included apparently after Gabe’s weird little announcement. It’s not like we have that much to lose...”

He didn’t like thinking of it like that.

Making their Father angry was unfathomable, but Sammy…

Sammy had scars all over his body.

Sammy jumped at any sudden noise.

Sammy spent millennia stuck in there being tortured and no one cared and no one helped because no one bothered checking up on him.

This… it wasn’t justice. It was cruelty. Their Father was just and benevolent. He would have never allowed any of this. Gabriel was just…

Gabriel was wrong.

“So you want us to go in through some tiny opening you think some souls are managing to get through and then what?” Michael huffed, “We wander around Hell until we find him? Ask around the lovely demon tenants to point us in the right direction?”

“Look, I need to figure out what to do with the souls who’re supposed to end up in Hell either ways and it is worth checking!” Azrael defended, “It’s not like we have any better options, Mike. I would’ve gone alone, but if Lilith really has most of Lu’s powers… No one except you or Dad himself would stand a chance.”

None of this made sense!

Why ban all angels from interfering if guilty souls were having trouble getting into Hell? Why allow the Mother of Demons to attain the powers of the Lightbringer himself? How was that even possible?

Michael’s head hurt. Was this what humans called a headache?

Too much of it all didn’t add up. It was as though he was trying to complete a million piece puzzle while most of the pieces were hidden somewhere he could not see. One piece had the potential to bring him clarity, but the angel couldn’t figure it out. What was he missing?

“So everyone who dies and is supposed to go to Hell is just… stuck?” Ella asked, not meeting Rae-Rae’s eyes.

He didn’t even want to ask where those two knew each other from.

“Not all.” Rae-Rae winced, “It’s like… some can make it but the whole process is really slow and weird and funky and messed up.”

Ella nodded.

“I’ll go.” Chloe Decker volunteered, “Down to, uh, Hell. I mean.”

“You can’t.” Michael rolled his eyes. Humans. “You’d have to be dead and guilty to end up there, Chloe Decker, so I highly doubt that you will ever set foot in that place.”

“But Lucifer is stuck there!” She protested, “I can’t just… leave him.”

Michael couldn’t either.

Daniel had said that Sammy had walked through the portal. He’d been on his knees, weak and defeated. He’d said his goodbyes and then he simply walked through on his own. Lilith must have been there then. That was the only plausible explanation.

“I don’t think anyone in this room can leave him there to suffer. We both go.” He sighed, turning to Azrael, “Just let me try something first. You said that there are multiple… entrances?”

“It’s kinda like… a fishnet! With really, really tiny holes that are pretty far spaced. I don't think you can see them, Mike, but you'll just have to trust me on this one." Azrael struggled to explain, “Some souls get pulled in through them but it’s all slower now. Pretty much sure that I can get us through at least one if Michael helps.”

“I’ll attempt to find her then.” Michael declared, plopping down to the floor. He sat cross-legged with his hands clasped together, almost in prayer.

“How exactly?” Chloe Decker asked.

“If she is strong enough to be opening portals from Earth to Hell just like that, then she must have more than a considerable chunk of my brother’s powers.” Michael expalined, eyes closed, “I suppose I can try to… trace it.”

“But-”

“Chloe.” He breathed, cracking one eye open, “These are matters far beyond your human understanding. We will save him and bring him back. That’s all you need to know.”

“We love him too.” Ella pipped up, “Don’t think we’ll just sit down and do nothing while you guys try to get him back.”

“You cannot help at the moment.” Michael shrugged, “It is best that you stay out of the way.”

Chloe Decker looked beyond angry. She began to say something, but Michael didn’t catch it. A white mist surrouded his eyes. Slowly, he searched for energy that he had consciously tried to avoid for centuries.

He imagined that it would be tainted. This was the second half of his powers, but it wasn’t Samael. Michael had no idea how such a thing could be possible much less how their Father would allow it to happen.

He couldn’t get those thoughts out of his head.

He took a deep breath and tried again, scouting the dimesion far away for what could his only chance at saving his brother.

That was if his brother could be saved in the first place.

*cries in Deckerstar*

It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve millennia of endless tortured, but Lucifer was tired.

The demons were busy. He wasn’t sure with what exactly, but they left him in the Hell Loop for what felt like decades on end. He wasn’t sure anymore. Being mostly mortal was not helping.

Lucifer wondered if that was why they were somewhat holding back. It wasn’t like they didn’t pay him any visits or anything like that. It was more like they were more careful with him.

He wondered if anyone could just go overboard and get it over with. He’d waited more than long enough.

The poison had… slowed?

That wasn’t quite it. Lucifer was still dying. He could feel that. He could detect more and more effects of it from time to time. However, according to all his previous estimates, he should have been dead a long time ago.

Life didn’t have much in it any way.

Pain and self-hatred seemed to be the most recurring themes in his existence. 

Sometimes, he killed those he loved. Other times, he watched them abandon him. _She_ showed up to kill them a few times too. Lucifer got to enjoy being haunted by their “ghosts” as they followed him around and blamed him for what had taken place. It wasn’t that they were wrong or anything, but he was sick of crying.

When he’d almost melted into an endless routine of misery and agony, they showed up.

At first, Lucifer was almost certain that it was just some new vision the Loop had come up with. It did that sometimes. Maybe Hell and the demons got bored of seeing him suffering the exact same thing after a few centuries. 

When Michael and Azrael showed up, his first thought was that he was going to relive his Fall.

When no other angels and no Dear Old Dad showed up, he wondered if he was just going to get insulted and tortured by images of the two siblings who had been his favourites long ago. For some reason, that struck him as unbearably cruel. Were the demons trying to wreak havoc with the handful of good memories he still had somewhere in the back of his mind?

From where he was on the floor of his Penthouse, covered in the Detective’s blood, Lucifer just stared.

Was the loop broken? The Detective just vanished.

They looked haggard, broken and bruised as though they had just undergone a great battle. Michael was more dishevelled than usual and one of Azrael’s wings was bleeding. They hurried through the door, demon screaming loud behind them. 

Michael blasted a horde of demons with white, ethereal light. Lucifer grinned. He hadn’t seen those powers used in centuries. He hadn’t used them in an even longer time. The energy seemed to call out to him and to warm parts of him that were supposed to be dead. He didn’t have his wings. He didn’t even have more than what was about an ounce’s worth of his grace.

Suddenly, his twin there using his powers seemed to remind Lucifer of everything he had lost. He hadn’t thought of that. Lucifer began to feel… empty. No, it was more like he became _aware_ of the emptiness he felt inside.

It wasn’t even the same one relevant to emotions and feelings. It was more… basic. Deeper. Somewhere deep within his essence, the flames were gone. The light was gone. He’d been stripped bare. He’d lost everything that made him himself.

How could he be the Lightbringer when they’d stolen his light?

It was too much.

He had known all of this of course. However, in that particular moment, he was feeling it.

And it bloody hurt.

Lucifer was expecting himself to weep at the loss he had suffered; he’d lost his home, his friends, the love of his life, and almost every single part of himself. A lot of those losses had just happened over and over again.

He didn’t cry though.

Staring at his siblings as they made their way towards him, free of demons at last, Lucifer burst into laughter.

He’d laughed like that before.

He knew what it felt like.

Somehow, that didn’t prepare him for this repeat. To make matters worse, it hurt. It felt as though his insides had all long since melted into some sort of blackened mush. Laughing seemed to make them slosh around or something equally unpleasant. Everything ached too. His _skin_ hurt for goodness’ sake.

His eyes closed at some point. Lucifer could hardly tell. The world was mostly dark more than half the time. He had been sure than he was going to go blind very soon. Someone was patting his cheek and calling his name. Lucifer wanted to push them away, but he couldn’t move.

Were they demons? Were the demons back?

That thought would have startled him a long time ago. Now, he just laughed harder. Maybe this was finally it.

Eventually, he found himself staring at the worried face of his twin. He blinked a few times and he could instantly tell that he was not laughing any more. Instead, Lucifer was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Had he had the energy, he would have laughed at that too.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Michael was… worried.

A more appropriate term to use would have been something like “scared”, but he was the Sword of God. He never got _scared._

Maybe this could be an exception?

Sammy had never looked this bad. Michael had seen him look more beaten and broken. But it was always… It was never…

_Father, help us. Please._

He wasn’t even sure whether or not this was Sammy. His body was too blackened by that strange venom, too poisoned to be recognizable. Even his face… They used to enjoy pulling so many tricks using the benefit of their identical looks in their youth. Now though… 

There was hardly any white skin left. It was just an intricate design that created a dark, almost glowing mess. His cheeks were still hollow. The whites of his eyes had not survived either. Soon enough, it seemed that his brother’s eyes would be overcome by the blackness too.

“S-sammy.” He croaked, hating himself for sounding like that, “Come on, get up. Your human Detective is waiting for you back in Los Angeles. We’ve missed you. All of us. Even me. Just… do not tell anyone that, alright?”

Where was his iron resolve? Where was his power? His strength?

Michael was close to tears.

This was all his fault. Self-blame had always been more of Lucifer’s thing than his own, but in this particular situation...

“Sam, get up.” He was holding him, supporting him. Michael was the only reason that his brother wasn’t a limp heap on the ground, “We are getting out of here.”

He managed to get his brother to his feet, cradling him in his arms when it became obvious that Samael was not walking any where any time soon.

How long did they have?

He handed Sam to Azrael, knowing that he had to stay and kill Lilith. Despite his limited knowledge of magic and spells, that was usually sufficient to reverse whatever was going on. If not, then destroying her would release his brother’s energy and that alone could save Sammy.

It could also theoretically destroy this dimension, but oh well. 

“Fly him back to Los Angeles.” Michael ordered, his grip on his sword firm and determined, “Get him back to his Penthouse. The humans, especially Chloe Decker, can help from there. Just go, Azrael. Don’t look back.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes.

Azrael was strong. She could do it. He’d distract the demons and she’d slip through the entrance she’d found. The dynamic portals and openings were... unstable at best. According to her estimates, it should close up soon after.

Michael didn’t care.

He could find another way out of Hell. Maybe killing Lilith would even unseal the realm all together. With no Queen there to maintain the seal, it should collapse and vanish, right?

“C-can’t.”

“What?” Azrael almost dropped him in her shock. Michael stepped closer, carefully tilting his brother’s head towards him.

“Can’t what?”

“Go.” Sammy coughed, “Made a-a deal. With h-h-her. Can’t leave. S-s-sorry, Mikey.”

“What do you mean you can’t leave?” Azrael demanded, “What sort of dumb deal is that, Lu?”

“Had to keep... them s-safe.” He grinned, obsidian stained teeth sending shivers down both of the angels’ spines, “Sorry.”

Both angels knew who he was talking about. Michael knew what this meant, but he refused to believe it.

“Look, don’t be stupid.” Azrael chastised, panicked, “Screw whatever deal you made with that psycho bitch, Lu. You can’t stay here!”

“Don’ wanna stay.” He sighed, eyes closing again, “Have to though. My w-word is my b-b-bond.”

Seriously?

 _This_ was the devil.

This was… Michael could understand why Chloe Decker hated him and his family so much. He could see it now.

What had they done?

“Just fly him out.” Michael ordered, his voice too loud to his own ears, “I don’t think he’s lucid enough to really understand what’s going on much less fight you.”

“I can under… understand!” Sammy protested, eyes flying open and his head lolling to the side at an awkward angle, “You… can’t! I-I won’t let you!”

He nodded at his sister.

The plan was simple. Ish.

Michael would be damned, more than he was probably going to be when their Father finally spoke up about this, if he did not succeed at getting Sammy back home alive.

"I'll go out first and I'll fight them. Keep them occupied." Michael cleared his throat, brandishing his trusty, legendary sword, "You?"

"Won't look back." Azrael confirmed, blinking the tears out of her eyes, "Get him away. To his friends."

He nodded and braced himself, marching towards the opening of the Loop, towards one of the most important battles of his immortal life.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

"Lucifer, quit it!"

She was going to drop him if he kept this up.

"Stop it! Lucifer!"

Michael was already too busy to help. She could hardly see him, dark wings gleaming in the bluish glow of hell, sharper than any weapon had a right to be. His sword, ever the indestructible weapon, was rapidly piling up demon bodies.

Lilith was no where to be season. Azrael was sure that this was all the more reason for her and Lucifer to get out of there.

She was anxious and scared. All angels were warriors, but she wasn't anything like Amenadiel and Remiel. She wasn't powerless, but she wasn't as powerful as Lucifer and Michael either.

"Lucifer, please."

She flew them up, struggling. Her wings hurt. Several cuts and deep gashes made her flight even more complicated.

"Rae… Please! C-c-can't. Deal!"

"Michael is going to kill her, Lu." She soothed, brushing some of his matted, long hair away from his forehead.

"Can't risk... it. The D-detective... Urchin!"

She shushed him again, closing her eyes, aiming to focus. She could almost feel the way back to LA. It called out to her, soft and low, a melody for her ears and her ears only. Souls lazily crept through, like water droplets cascading from an already closed tap. 

They were almost there.

Lucifer was going to be safe. Michael had never lost a fight. She could come back and help him if necessary. Father... Father would understand. She was carrying her favourite older brother in her arms and she was fully aware of the state that he was in. Azrael didn't think that anyone would let someone suffer like this. Lucifer was their Father's favourite. Lucifer was the Brightest. It would all work out...

_Almost there!_

She could nearly feel the dimensions shifting and melting away into nothing. A grin broke across her face, making her split drip more blood into her chin. Azrael couldn't care less.

They'd made it and-

"Lucifer!" She yelped, letting him go involuntarily. Azrael struggled in the air, trying to steady herself.

The bastard had _plucked out_ some of her feathers. Two handfuls. The feathers softly made their descent to the battle ground below, lazily drifting in the frigid air.

That's it. Lucifer was officially out of his mind. _That hurt!_

She shook it away though, her heart sinking as she watched him topple into his more-than-likely demise. Of course. The idiot was _mortal._ On his good day, Lucifer was more likely to choose the stupidest, most impulsive option because that was just who he was. You could always count on him to make dumb mistakes like that.

Now?

He was going to get himself killed.

She didn't even know if he was aware of that. As he fell down, hundreds upon hundreds of feet, his face remained blank. He didn't scream. He didn't say anything.

He just fell.

Azrael, even with being the Angel of Death and all that, had never seen something more disturbing in her _disturbingly_ long life.

She barely managed to get herself out of her shock, hurrying towards him. Her wings hurt. Her wounds pulsed with agony. Azrael persevered forward, certain that allowing him to actually hit the ground would be the worst thing that could happen in that scenario.

She was wrong of course.

 _Very, very_ wrong.

It wasn't anything more than a flash of red in the endless fog. Shining like the fire of Hell itself, Azrael might have dismissed it as a glint of light. An unnoticeable phenomenon. Something too quick to actually take note off much less check out.

The red intensified. From the fog, a person she had not seen in thousands of years appeared. Flying with a grace that should have been impossible for someone who had newly acquired wings, Lilith swooped down and snatched Lucifer in mid-air.

She grinned, her sharp teeth doing an impeccable job of glowing in the darkness as well. Demons screeched below. Lilith flew towards them. The world was nothing more than chaos, a kaleidoscope of indecipherable madness.

Lucifer was stuck in it though.

They all were.

They could never win, now could they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nothing like how I imagine season 5 would be, but it's really fun to write and toy with. Thanks again for Fic_me_up_buttercup for this awesome idea! Special thanks to everyone who's read, commented, left kudos, etc... You guys are AMAZING.
> 
> Have a marvellous day!


	10. Somebody to Die For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who's been reading and supporting this!
> 
> Note: This is angst with a HAPPY ending.
> 
> Please, please, please keep that in mind?

Michael was, for all intents and purposes, the leader of the Army of the Heavenly Host.

He was the Sword of God, the Prince of Heaven, and the Power of the Demiurge.

He was  _ afraid. _

It wasn’t like the archangel to experience that type of emotion. Deep within him, the careful numbness he worked to maintain was slowly being foiled by his blistering anger, his maddening grief, and his insane fear.

The demons all blurred together. He had lost count of how many he had put an end to. His robes were soaked through with demon blood, the liquid coating his face, wings, and sword. He wasn’t tired or even disoriented. The fight wasn’t taking all that much of him all in all. He was just too worried about his brother.

The horde of demons grew thicker. He began to struggle just the tiniest bit. Soon enough, his eyes were almost constantly glowing gold. The energy rippled from his fingers, finding its intended target quickly and efficiently. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d fought this ferociously. 

It was what he’d been trained for though.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Azrael fly upwards with Sam. A short while later, he also saw Sam tumble down into his more-than-likely demise.

He didn’t die though.

A demon managed to stab him in the shoulder that one moment Michael paused to glimpse a pair of huge, red wings in the dark. 

Lilith snatched Sam from midair. Azrael tried to follow. He knew that his sister couldn’t win this. Whatever was going to happen now with Lilith and Sammy… He had to be there. He was his brother’s only chance.

Once he was certain that neither his brother nor his sister were going to get hurt, Michael closed his eyes. He faintly registered a multitude of injuries on his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The light burned bright and strong, seemingly exploding from his skin and destroying every demon in its path.

Silence reigned once his little light trick was over.

No demons approached and nothing else happened.

Michael had missed this. He wondered if his powers were even stronger now that his twin was finally near him. Could that be it? Neither of them had had much use for their powers in the past millennia. In Sam’s case, he’d refused to use most aspects of his power all together as far as Michael knew.

His wings ached, but Michael spread them. Quickly, he flew towards where he’d last seen her, intent on resolving this matter once and for all.

She wouldn’t be a match for him. Locating her had been the most difficult part.

Michael would have liked to have the aid of some of his siblings on this, but that was obviously not possible. 

“He’s mine.” Lilith sneered. She stood on a wide ledge deep inside a Hell Loop, glaring down at him. Her wings, red and menacing, were already sharp and ready to attack. Sam lay curled up by her feet, eyes closed, hopefully just unconscious. She had one of her boots planted in the center of his back in a show of possessiveness and power. It wasn’t like Sam could get away.

“He doesn’t belong to anyone.” Azrael pipped up, “You’ve done more than enough already.”

“Surrender.” Michael ordered, landing next to his sister, “You must know that you cannot defeat us in a fight.”

“I defeated your adorable twin.” She smirked.

“H-he’s not… pathetic… like me.” Sam coughed. His eyes were still closed, his skin so dark that it might have as well been made of the darkness their family had replaced with light back when it all began.

He was still alive.

He was still alive!

He wasn’t pathetic per se, but he was alive and that was all that mattered.

“I thought we had an agreement.” Lilith sighed, kicking him, “What will become of your sweet, little pet humans now?”

"He followed your stupid deal.” Azrael rolled her eyes, “We would’ve been out of here and back in LA if it wasn’t for that.”

“Lucky me.”

“What do you want from him?” Michael asked.

“Fun. Revenge.  _ Whatever _ I want.”

“You seriously think you’ll get away from this?” Michael scoffed.

“I have his powers.” Flames erupted in her fingers as if in proof, “We can have a lovely fight, Mikey. Level this entire realm to the ground… What would daddy dearest say?”

She couldn't. 

“How do you have his powers?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She laughed, “Enough talking.”

“What do you want, Lilith?” Azrael demanded, “You know you can win against us.”

“You do not know how to use the powers you speak of.” Michael added. It took them years of training to learn how to use their powers themselves and they’d been children. Children learned that sort of thing quicker and better. Besides, the power of the Demiurge was intrinsic to him and his brother; it was as much of a part of them as their wings or their limbs. Lilith… She’d probably only get herself killed if she tried using them now.

“Oh, I know.” She shrugged, “I only want him-” she kicked Lucifer again, eliciting a weak moan from him, “-to suffer.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” Michael seethed. She tortured him for eons. She was just set out to hurt his twin, to break him, to shatter everything that he was…

Sammy was stronger than that though. He was insanely strong. Michael knew as much. His brother would pull through and go back to being a pain in his ass very soon.

“Why do  _ you _ hate him so much?” Lilith countered, “Do you realize what it was like for him down here after you, Michael, tossed him out? He waited for you, the fool. He spent thousands of years anticipating some sort of message or visit from anyone up there. He tortured himself for eons expecting that you’d pop down here and make up with him or something. Did you know that? Did you know that your hatred tortured him almost as much as my torture did or is that insignificant because you, like your glorified dad, can do no wrong?”

Michael said nothing, his grip on his sword tightening. 

She was lying. 

Sam would’ve been angry. Sam wouldn’t have wanted to see any of them. He’d hated the Silver City. He’d wanted Free Will. He’d messed up. Bad. Everyone had to pay for their wrongdoings and Sam, ever the punisher, knew that.

Sammy hated them all. He didn’t wait for them. He  _ never _ waited for anyone.

Michael ignored the voice in his head that kept insisting that those were all lies.

"My plan was going to work perfectly had you not cursed Hell with your presence, angel.” Lilith continued, smirking, “He would have died or spent the rest of eternity being spat on and toyed with by every demon in the realm had you not come down here. Why did you show up in the first place? I know it wasn’t to check up on him or to have a family reunion.”

He’d gone down to yell at him.

A few demons had walked the Earth after his brother’s return to the throne. Michael, seeing that Amenadiel was now busy with his family, had lost his patience and decided to go down to Hell himself. He’d imagined a gruesome fight between him and his twin. He’d imagined himself trying to remain calm in the face of the annoyance that was his brother.

Instead, he’d found Sammy bound and tied up like an animal, hurt to the point of not being aware of where he was. He’d found what should’ve been impossible for any angel. He’d found something that he couldn’t go back to the Silver City and consult their Father on before acting.

And so Michael acted.

He brought his brother back to his home with the humans. He’d tried everything to save him.

He was going to save him.

"Why do you want revenge on Lucifer this badly?” Azrael asked again.

“Your questions are beyond boring.” Lilith rolled her eyes, bored, “Who do you think took care of him? Who aided him as he ascended to the throne of Hell? Hell was his home. He was  _ our _ king. He spat on all of that, abandoned his throne, and set out to make a life for himself among humans! He favored them over us. The similarities between him and the Almighty are uncanny, huh?”

Sam would wake up one day. He’d lose it when Michael tells him this. He was going to wake up. Of course he was.

“Again, enough chit chat.” Lilith grinned, “Let’s try something new, shall we?”

“You cannot possibly think you will win a battle against-”

“Oh, I do not intend to.”

Another disturbing grin and she was gone.

Sam was gone too.

“She unsealed Hell!” Azrael exclaimed, looking around at… something he couldn’t quite see.

“She’s going to Earth.” Michael concluded easily, dread pooling in his stomach, “She’s going to use humans as a shield.”

“No epic battle with a few million humans around.” Azrael’s eyes widened, “She knows we won’t kill any, not even unintentionally.”

“Exactly.”

“She’s… Do you think she’s going…?”

“She’s headed to wherever Chloe Decker is.” Michael stated, preparing to take flight, “She wants to make Sammy suffer. She wants to hurt him and take her revenge, remember?”

Azrael looked mortified. She wasn’t weak or untrained, but this was…

They didn’t need to protect themselves in the Silver City. It was calm, peaceful, and tranquil. Most angels never left it. Those who did certainly didn’t come down to wander around Earth and Hell like this

Angels don’t get poisoned. They don’t get tortured either. They don’t befriend or fall in love with humans. They don’t…

This was too messed up. 

Michael wasn’t about to let that stop him though.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

She was worried.

She just wanted Lucifer back.

That seemed to be a recurring theme in Chloe’s life. She wanted to spend an entire year at least with her poor devil safe and not in constant, impending danger. She tried to think of him… before.

As she paced the Penthouse, cursing Michael and the entire Heavenly Host, she tried to remember her boyfriend for everything he was.

Her dork. Her partner. Her pain in the ass.

Her  _ everything. _

She was wondering if there was some sort of way to make it down to Hell when it happened.

She felt their presence before she saw them. She saw him before she saw  _ her. _

Chloe couldn’t tell that it was him at first of course. A selfish part of her hoped that that was Michael, but the effect of whatever magical poison that had wrecked their lives was unmistakable. 

She was running to him before she even registered what she was doing. Ella was yelling something but Chloe couldn’t hear her. She had eyes only for the one person who…

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. It just didn’t happen.

Because  _ it didn’t. _

Because… because…

“Lucifer!”

She crashed into him, dropping to her knees and scooping him into her arms. He was frail and weak in her gasp. A part of her faintly registered that she shouldn’t be jostling him this much. He was clearly injured. She couldn’t bring herself to stop though.

“Lucifer? Lucifer!”

She pushed his hair away from his forehead, her tears scalding hot as she took in the blackened mess that was his skin. Even his eyes, slit-like, were a uniform obsidian nightmare.

It was disturbing.

He was trying to speak, to get something past his black-stained teeth.

“Hey, don’t talk. You don’t have to talk, Lucifer.” She sobbed, kissing his forehead without a care for the venom, “You’re okay. You’re here now, Lucifer. You’re here…”

He was smiling at her.

He looked so out of it and yet there it was. Just the tiniest upturn of his lips, just the faintest spark in his eyes…

“Oh, Lucifer…”

"Ah, the infamous Detective.”

Then, she was being pulled away. She clung to him, suddenly on high alert.

She was out for blood.

Her attacker was stronger than her. Her attacker was inhumanely strong. They- she- wasn’t human though, now was she?

She’d hurt him. She’d hurt Lucifer. Over and over again. This bitch who was pulling Chloe up by the front of her shirt at the moment was the same one who haunted her boyfriend’s dreams.

She was the same one who took him away from them. Over and over again. She was the same one who tortured him. Over and over and  _ over  _ again.

Chloe had never been good at sitting down and keeping her mouth shut. She’d never been good when it came to letting the people she loved get hurt.

“The infamous Lilith?” Chloe retorted, working as much acid into her voice as possible. She didn’t reach for her gun. She knew it would be pointless. That didn’t mean that she was going to lose to this… creature though. They’d lost enough already.

“I would’ve loved to get to know you better, to understand why he is as obsessed with you as he is… But, alas, we don’t have much time on our hands,  _ Detective _ .”

It felt like a blow to the stomach. Everyone called her “Detective.” She was, after all, a detective. However, Lilith was just… too much.

“You want to fight me.” The red-haired woman concluded, her wings raised high above her head, “That’s really cute. You and him share the same brand of stupid, don’t you?”

And then she was choking Chloe.

Chloe didn’t have any clever moves at the moment. There was nothing  _ to do _ per se. She struggled against the woman’s supernatural strength, kicking and fighting for all she was worth. 

Lilith was laughing. If she was as strong as Lucifer or Maze, then Chloe knew that she could snap her human neck without a second thought. She was enjoying this though, she was saying something, giving a speech…

Chloe couldn’t understand. Her body was aching. Her mind felt fuzzy and her chest burned.

Her last thought was an image of both Lucifer and Trixie huddled together on the ground in front of the fireplace at her house, laughing and joking together.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

Michael was there quickly. 

He was too late though.

“Are you enjoying this, my king?” Lilith laughed, “Tell me, how does it feel to see all your little fears come to life like this?”

“D-D-D….” Sam seemed to be able to only utter that particular letter. He was sprawled belly-down on the ground, one of his arms feebly reaching out in the direction of where Lilith was strangling Chloe Decker, grinning.

“I would’ve enjoyed torturing  _ her  _ for a long, long time.” Lilith grinned, “I mean, humans are horribly fragile, but I’m sure we can figure something out. Something tells me that hurting her would allow me to hurt you more than I have ever had in the past, which is saying  _ a lot,  _ my king.”

“Enough!” Michael thundered.

“Mi-! D… D...”

It hurt seeing his brother like this. He wanted to run up to him and find a way to heal him, to fix him. Healing had never been their strongest suit, but he could try. He  _ had  _ to.

He had to save Chloe Decker too though.

“Unhand her this instant!” 

“Or else what?” Lilith mocked, “You’ll blast me with your scary angel magic and level down this entire human city while we fight?”

“You still talk too much, mom.”

Michael blinked and Lilith was on the ground. Chloe Decker had tumbled from her grasp to the floor, her hand landing about a meter away from Sammy’s.

“D’ective…!”

He moved to shield Chloe and his twin, his eyes fixed on the odd newcomer.

Mazikeen of the Lilim. 

She was a relatively short woman with dark skin and piercing eyes, clad in leather and craftily brandishing two demon steel knives. Her knee was planted at the center of her mother’s back, holding her down with a knife to her neck.

“Mazikeen.” Lilith greeted, beating her off with a giant flap of her newly acquired wings. Maikeen was relentless though. She pounced on the woman immediately, not pausing in her attacks. She slashed at her mother’s neck and face, getting up every single time she got thrown to the ground or to the wall.

"Ever the disappointment." Her mother sighed, slamming her to the ground, "All you are ever good for is still yapping at his heels, isn't it?"

Maze let out a frustrated growl, digging her knife into the wing closest to her. Michael had no idea how the demon was holding her own this well, but he was impressed. 

“Ellen, careful!” Mazikeen admonished, jumping over the bar to get back to Lilith.

Ellen?

Ella!

She was there too.

Michael groaned in frustration, looking behind him at the couple sprawled on the floor.

“I’m o-okay.” Chloe Decker was saying, smiling just a bit, her outstretched fingers stroking Sammy’s cheek. 

Ugh. For the love of everything…

Azrael arrived quickly after that. She immediately went to protect Ella, putting Michael’s mind at a bit of an ease. The Penthouse was beyond destroyed. Everything was in chaos. He wondered if he should fly away with his brother in his arms, get him as far away from here as possible.

Maze seemed to be more than capable of holding her own against her mother. If he found the right moment, he could easily kill Lilith once and for all. That was their only hope, wasn’t it? She didn’t have an antidote or a way of curing his twin. Killing her had to undo whatever binding magic was between them.

It was going to work.

He didn’t feel particularly comfortable about moving away from the two idiots on the ground. Sam could hardly move in the first place. Humans were beyond useless in this fight. He shared a look with Azrael and Ella, nodding towards his charges. Both of them seemed to get what he was implying.

While Lilith slammed Maze into the huge liquor display, Azrael and Ella quickly ran over.

“I’ll take care of them.” Azrael promised, “I can fly the two ladies away if you want and Lucifer can stay here. We need to see what happens with the poison and his grace, right?"

“We are so not leaving.” Ella scoffed. Sam’s head was in her lap. She was stroking his hair and studying his skin, trying to calm him like Chloe Decker was. The blonde woman had her arms wrapped around him, mumbling something into his neck, clearly not planning on letting go any time soon.

Humans.

One could argue that they were the root of all problems in creation. Well, maybe not  _ all,  _ but it was close enough. 

“I’ll take care of them.” Azrael repeated, spreading her wings, “ _ Go. _ ”

He turned back to the fight, finding that Lilith was actually approaching them. Mazikeen was nowhere to be seen. 

He didn’t care much for her though. Michael had bigger problems to worry about.

He was beyond fed up.

He didn’t fight Lilith. Not exactly. It was less epic fight, more… basic combat. She wasn’t harming him that much, but he needed a good opening to either cut her head clean off or snap her neck.

He wasn’t getting one.

The fight should have been over ages ago. Lilith was fierce though. She kept going, punching and kicking and slicing with the sharp tips of her wings. Any more force used and the building would come down on their heads.

That was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? She was just playing him. She was just playing them all.

Michael was growing slightly tired. He wouldn’t stop fighting of course, but he couldn’t remember the last time that a real opponent had managed to tire him.

Where was the demon? Could she help? Could any of his siblings help?

The fight should have been easy. It should have been over already!

Kill Lilith. Save Sammy. Simple enough.

He was in the process of pinning Lilith to the ground when he noticed that Chloe Decker had risen to her feet. He could make out the dark bruises on her neck and the sweat, tears, and blood on her face from where he was. Michael watched her point her gun at them, hands impossibly steady despite everything that she had gone through.

She must have known that that would be pointless, right? Unless she had demon steel bullets or some sort of celestial,magical bullet or something of the like, her little human weapon would not hurt Lilith.

But…

She didn’t want to hurt Lilith, did she? She wanted to distract her.

He knew that his brother’s lover was clever. He’d deduced that. Was she really…?

At her nod, Michael decided to trust her. If Sam did, then he would too. He owed his brother that much at least. 

He allowed Lilith to knock his sword out of his hand. She quickly grabbed him by two fistfulls of his robes and chucked him all the way across the room to Sam’s bed. The force of his landing destroyed the expensive frame. Splinters and dust flew everywhere.

Chloe Decker fired.

One, twice, thrice… She aimed for Lilith’s face, her mouth set in a tight line as she emptied her clip. Lilith kept coming closer, dropping to her knees, howling in agony, and clutching at her face for just a second. 

It was a second too long.

Michael flew towards her, wings beating furiously and eyes almost shining with light. His sword was in his hands and the energy was almost exploding out of every pore of his body.

It had to be enough. She’d turned to capture him, but he was too fast, jabbing the sword into her chest. Her wings could not protect her. She could not get away.

Chloe Decker was shooting again. Almost fearless, she marched closer, focused and alert.

“You think y-you won?” Lilith managed to say, laughing.

Was that too easy? Michael suddenly found himself anxious. He didn’t question himself though. He wasn’t dumb enough for that.

He grabbed the blade, glowing with his power, and cut her head clean off just as she was about to say something.

He didn’t care what it was. She’d already said too much.

Michael closed his eyes, willing the fluttering power within him to seek out its counterpart.

This was it.

Lucifer was going to be okay. This was the only way. He’d… It worked. Easiest way to undo a spell more often than not.

Nothing happened though.

He reached into the fabric of existence around him, frantically seeking out the energy that had been his companion from the moment he had been created.

Nothing was there though.

Michael’s eyes flew open.

He dropped to his knees, his hands reaching out to hover by Lilith. Again, they glowed a vibrant gold and the energy rippled within her. 

He’d do it himself. Manually. This was just a minor setback. There was  _ nothing  _ for him to worry about. Just a tiny, little, insignificant delay. Magic was fickle like that.

He found himself pulling the energy in, straining as his body struggled to accommodate it. 

He’d only need to do it for a second though. He’d go to Sammy and he’d touch him and that w _ ould be it. _

This entire nightmare would be over and done with.

It all hurt. It was too bright and too loud and  _ too much.  _ His half was darkness. Calmness. Sam was light. Sam was fire. Sam  _ burned. _

He’d do anything for his brother though. He’d endure this inferno a million times over if it meant that Sam would live long enough to smile at him again, to forgive him, to smack him.

Anything. Anything at all.

He was crawling to where he vaguely remembered his brother was. He was screaming. No. Someone else was screaming. The humans? Lilith?

Lilith was dead.

Right. Yes. Of course. He’d killed her. That’s why everything hurt and burned and shined too bright. 

None of them touched him. They would’ve gotten accidentally smote anyway. He wondered what he looked like just then. Skin and wings glowing maybe? It sure felt that the divine light was bursting out of him.

He found Sam though. He was all… dark. In the world of fire and brightness, a dark lump resided somewhere up ahead. It took him awhile but he finally made it there.

He reached out with a shaky hand, willing this to work. It was their last resort. Their last hope.

It was Sammy’s last hope.

It  _ had  _ to work. It just did. 

Michael would have done anything to make it work.

It didn’t though.

When he finally opened his eyes, feeling beyond destroyed, the world was dark. It was the kind of darkness that one associated with sadness and misery. The world wasn’t dark due to the absence of light. It was dark due to the absence of its Lightbringer. 

His Lightbringer.

His brother. His twin. His  _ best friend. _

The only person who had ever cared for him. The only person who’d worked hard to make him laugh.

The… the…

No. It wasn’t happening.

“Lucifer… L-Lucifer, please… Lucifer!”

Chloe Decker was crying.

She was right next to him, half slumped on top of Lucifer, weeping into his chest. Her hands roamed his face and chest, begging him to wake up in a way words would never be able to.

“Lucifer? Lu… Lucifer! This… this i-i-isn’t funny. You… you p-promised! You a-a-ass! Y-you promised!”

Everyone was crying.

Azrael and Ella had gotten over whatever issue they had (for now at least). Instead of fighting and trying to keep as much distance between them as possible, they were holding each other and sobbing.

Sobbing for the loss of their brother and their best friend.

Michael wasn’t crying though. Sam wasn’t dead. Lilith was. Sam. Sam was okay. His… his fire. His light. It was just taking a bit too long. That happened sometimes. Power was weird. Magic was even weirder.

“Bring h-him back!” Chloe Decker shouted, turning to him, Sam cradled to her chest now, “Bring him b-back r-right now!”

“I can’t.” He found himself saying, hollow and empty. With the aid of his sore wings, he sat up, shivering. Sam was right there, a few feet away. He’d never felt more far though.

For the first time in his entire existence, Michael couldn’t feel him. The comforting presence at the very corner of his mind was gone. The other half to everything that he was… The power that completed and complimented his own…

“Bring him back!” She shouted again, “Tell y-y-your asshole of a father to c-c-come down... h-here and bring him back because L-Lucifer didn’t f-fucking deserve this!”

Of course he didn’t. No one did. Especially not Sam.

Sam… Sam was right. Sam had been right all along.

He stared at her for a long time, not quite able to form words. His mouth moved but he couldn’t make any sounds. The ache from the fire was gone. The numbness inside was something alien and destructive. In the absence of the same fire that had been burning his soul just a few minutes ago, Michael felt cold.

For the first time in what must have been several million years, as he stared at the  _ corpse  _ of his twin brother, Michael, Leader of the Army of the Heavenly Host, Sword of God, Prince of Heaven and Power of the Demiurge cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... um... well...


	11. Paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the happy ending... How about I write several thousand words of fluff once everything is resolved? Just everyone being happy... Have a nice, everyone, and stay safe!

“Bring him back!”

“I can’t.” He told her for the millionth time.

_I can’t. I can’t. I can’t._

“Aren’t you s-supposed to be the strongest o-of all a-angels?” She demanded, “He was y-your brother, damn it… Just bring him back… P-please.”

She was crying. She hadn’t stopped crying. Michael didn’t know much about humans, but he was almost certain that Chloe Decker was about to pass out or something.

“Chloe, hey…” Ella got up, patting Azrael’s shoulder before moving to her friend. She was crying too. Everyone in the room was (except for the one person who they were crying for).

“Ella, I swear if you give me some b-bullshit explanation about… about God and… and…” Chloe Decker was having trouble breathing, her entire body trembling with the magnitude of the tragedy that had taken place about an hour ago, “He’s his f-father. He shouldn’t… Lucifer didn’t…”

Ella pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back.

“I w-won’t.” She answered, “I… I’m as confused as you are, Chloe…”

Michael was confused too. He continued pacing, trying to figure out his next move.

His next move because this was not over yet. 

“Bring him back!” Chloe demanded one last time.

“ENOUGH!” Michael whipped around, fed up, “Do you think that repeating that demand over and over again will get me to somehow magically do it?” He was not proud of the sob that followed his outburst. “He was my brother! Don’t you think that if I could bring him back, I would? Don’t you think that if I can be in his place right now, I wouldn’t even hesitate? Do you even… Do you even…?”

He was lost. No words came out of his mouth just then. The tears came back with a vengeance and he found himself standing there in the ruins of Sammy’s home, drowning. He was drowning in the memories his brain was playing on repeat. He was drowning in the possibilities, in the different scenarios for how this battle could have played out. He was drowning in the past, the present, and the future. In fact, Michael was sure that he would never take a normal breath again.

Chloe Decker stared at him for a moment, still in Ella’s arms. She pushed the smaller woman away, making her way towards the remnants of Sammy’s bed. Michael had straightened it and laid his twin there, covering him up to his chin with his beloved black silk sheets. No one knew where to go from there. Azrael and Ella had just settled at the foot of the ruined bed on the floor while Michael and Chloe had paced and tried to piece together whatever remained of their own respective worlds.

It was a bit ridiculous. Here he was, the strongest of the archangels, suffering alongside a human because his world and hers had one crucial thing that made them… alive. 

She called him Lucifer. He called him Sammy.

She knew the rich club owner with the charming grin and centuries worth of baggage. He knew the jump,y little boy with a smile that might have been a part of how he had lit the stars and centuries worth of good memories. 

In the end, what difference did it make?

Sammy… _Lucifer_ … was gone.

Chloe Decker settled down next to Sammy, extending her hand with the intent of brushing his hair away from his eyes. Her hand shook and trembled. It never managed to touch him. She let out another sob before lying down on her side next to his motionless body, just staring at him and suffering in silence. 

“Come on.”

He found Ella guiding him by the elbow towards where Azrael was still sitting. He watched in confusion as the dark haired woman sat down, tugging on his arm to get him to join them.

“You shouldn’t be alone, Mike.” She told him with a tearful smile, “Just… come on.”

Azrael was watching him too.

She was his little sister. Sam had always been the more touchy-feely of the two twins. He’d been the one to hold Rae-Rae and comfort her. Michael had just hovered next to them, anxious and awkward, unsure of what to do.

Ella tugged on his arm again and he found himself surrendering to her demand. He tossed his sword aside and fell to the floor gracelessly, allowing Ella to maneuver him into a seated position. She curled up against him, “hugging” him like she’d done a million years ago. Azrael shrugged out of Ella’s hold and crawled towards him, settling at his other side.

His little sister burrowed under his arm, curling into his chest. She hid her face in his side and stopped moving. Ella was hugging him, offering him comfort instead. Humans were weird.

He should have gotten up. 

  
He wasn’t some… some weakling. The last time he’d cried was when Sammy… when…

_The Fall._

Honestly, as the memories swirled around in his head, torturing him, Michael found that he couldn’t care less. He allowed himself to sag into Ella’s side, his head awkwardly resting on top of hers. She was so short. She rubbed comforting circles on his back and stroked his side in what he assumed was a soothing gesture as well. It just made him want to cry more. 

He had to think. He didn’t have time to grieve. 

“We could break into heaven and demand an audience with D-dad.” Azrael spoke up, her voice muffled by his robes. Wasn’t she disgusted by the amount of blood on him? Perhaps she didn’t notice.

“You sound like… like…”

Michael just cried harder.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

When Lucifer woke up, he was pissed off.

Interestingly, he was pissed off _because_ he woke up. 

“Not even eternal obliteration is enough to give me a break, huh?” He called out into the vast void around him, anger rising in his chest like lava making its way down a volcano. 

He wasn’t tired.

He wasn’t afraid.

At this point, Lucifer doubted that he even _cared._

He’d never thought of himself as actively suicidal before. The concept was odd. It wasn’t something that unsettled him, but it wasn’t something realistic either. Humans killed themselves off all the time. He was the devil though. He wanted to die, but suicide never felt like something that applied to him.

It was confusing at best.

He never quite managed to understand the Detective’s and Doctor Linda’s worry about his train of thought or behavior. He never even saw anything wrong with it. His life had been tainted with pain and suffering prominently, specifically after his Fall. Lucifer wasn’t sure when the first time he’d thought about how nice it would be for everything to just stop was exactly, but it had been back during his stay in Hell. Before LA. Before the Detective. Before the tiny streaks of happiness, faint yet oddly bright, in his memories and his soul.

Now that he’d suffered in Hell, now that he’d suffered her torture… Did Dear Old Dad engineer the universe in a way that made sure Lucifer never got what he wanted, even if it was death?

“None of my children have ever wanted to die.” A voice Lucifer wished he could say he’d forgotten interjected, “To be honest with you, son, I wasn’t even sure angels could even develop such a desire.”

No.

No. No. No.

_Bloody Hell. Bloody, fucking, Hell._

“Dad?”

And suddenly he wasn’t lying down any more. The whiteness around him melted away into an office he’d last stepped foot in long before he’d found himself. What seemed like beautiful, magical books lined the infinite bookshelves extending along the infinite walls.

His stars swirling at the ceiling above their heads. In his Father’s presence, Lucifer found himself… lost.

He moved to punch the old man, like he’d done with God Johnson back when his life made a bit of sense. Lucifer couldn’t move though. It wasn’t that his Father was actively preventing him or anything. It was just… Lucifer couldn’t do anything except stand and glare at the entity that had caused… everything.

“Hello, my son.” His Father smiled, eyes twinkling.

“I’m not your son!” The words exploded out of his lips, all his muscles suddenly tensing with hatred and fury.

“I believe that we both know that that statement could not be further away from the truth.” His Father sighed, “It is… It is good to see you again, Samael.”

_Good to see you again._

Screw everything.

 _This_ was why he’d been “suicidal” in the first place.

“My name is _Lucifer!_ ” He thundered, “And you cannot… You cannot just greet me as though I’ve been away traveling and this is just a pleasant get-together, _Dad!_ ”

“I suppose not.” His Father shrugged, offering him an apologetic smile, “What do you want to do, Samael? Punch me? Start another rebellion?”

_“My name is Lucifer!”_

He hadn’t been Samael in centuries. He would never be Samael again. _Never._

His Father looked at him with infinitely sad eyes before nodding. “Lucifer.” He simply said.

Lucifer hated how that acknowledgement made him both angrier and calmer. 

“I remember when I gave you that title, my son.” He smiled, and the stars up above shone just a little brighter, “Your mother and I were so proud.”

“No.” Lucifer laughed, “No.”

“No?”

“ _No!_ ” He exploded, “You can’t just say nonsense like that, Dad! You can’t just act as if nothing happened! You can’t just pretend that we are all one big, happy, fucking family and ignore the Hell, both literal and metaphorical, that you put me through!”

His Father sighed again, almost as if he was tired of dealing with a toddler’s tantrum.

“What do you want, Lucifer?” His Father asked, walking towards him, “What is it that you desire?” He smiled.

Lucifer was hardly a meter away from him. His Father wasn’t exactly asking that question like he did. Lucifer was not obliged to answer truthfully. 

“I wanted it to be all over.” He found himself saying nonetheless, gulping, his eyes stinging, “I wanted to stop hurting. Stop the hurt I felt myself and the hurt I inflicted on everyone unlucky enough to cross my path and care for me.”

He’d wanted the Detective too. He’d wanted to wake up next to her every morning, to have her card her fingers through his hair a hundred times a day, to have her smile at him in that beautiful way she did…

It’d been weird. He didn’t just want to sleep with her. Lucifer wanted… more.

That was how he’d always been though, wasn’t it? Wanting more and hardly ever being able to get anything at all. 

The Detective and the Urchin... As if.

Besides, the Detective didn’t deserve to be stuck with him, not when her emotions might not have been hers and-

“All humans have Free Will.” His Father told him, “You of all creatures know that.”

“Why did you take it away from her then?”

“I never took anything away from anyone.” His Father shook His head, “I merely ensured that she would be there around the same time you took your little, prolonged vacation, Lucifer. You two… In all the simulations I ran, in all the universes… You two always found your way to each other no matter what.”

“She doesn’t deserve that!” Lucifer fumed, “She deserves to be with someone who she chooses! Someone she loves. Someone who wouldn’t just cause her pain and misery like I do!”

_“... and I’m not worth it.” He'd said on the beach a long time ago._

He has never, and he would never be, worth it.

How could he even think of such a thing?

“Chloe Jane Decker chose you, my son.” His Father gently told him, “She always chose you.”

“Liar!” Lucifer yelled, pushing his Father away when He made an attempt to approach him, “You took her choice away from her! She didn’t deserve that!”

“I never took anything from anyone.” His Father repeated, straightening up and fixing his clothes.

_“Liar!”_

“You need to calm down, my son.”

With that, he was gone and Lucifer was alone again in the world of white.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“So… you two are traitors now?” Ella asked, still snuggled into Michael’s side.

“I would believe so.” Michael shrugged. He should’ve been more worried about that, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care. He’d spent too long ignoring his brother in favor of what was “right”. What was happening could never be right. “According to Gabriel at least.”

“And he doesn’t care that… that Lucifer…?”

“A lot of our siblings still think L-Lu deserves anything he gets for what he did.” Azrael mumbled, “A lot couldn’t be bothered to voice their opinion on this or even care.”

Chloe Decker was silent. They’d been alternating between talking, crying, and falling quiet for the past several hours. She hadn’t spoken anything at all, just staring at Sammy, lost in thought. Tears were still streaming down her face.

She didn’t strike Michael as someone who backed down. Following that line of thought, he wondered how she must have felt. If he was feeling helpless and lost, powerless in the face of what was going on, how did one human who couldn’t even begin to fathom the complexities that were embedded deep within every celestial’s life?

Yet, she chose to love Sammy. She chose to never leave his side. She chose to try and understand him.

He didn’t know much about the history between those two, but Michael was glad that his brother seemed to have found a home with these humans. Their home had long since been destroyed, way before the Fall and everything that followed.

“Do you think Dad is just going to stand for this?” Azrael asked, peeking up from his shoulder to look at him.

“He didn’t do anything when Uriel…” Michael trailed off, another stab of pain coursing through him. He never thought that losing his siblings was possible. Celestials didn’t “die”. Yet, here he was. He’d apparently lost two brothers in the span of a few human years.

“I hate to say this, Mike, but Lu is… different.” Azrael sighed, “You know that.”

He couldn’t argue with her.

Would their Father do something? He’d already done _nothing_ to prevent this. He’d already allowed the demons to torture Sammy for centuries. He’d already sent Sammy to Hell in the first place.

Maybe this had been Father’s plan all along.

Michael couldn’t believe it though. He refused to believe it. Their Father didn’t like him. He knew as much. Yet, while having His faults, He was… this was too much. Even for Him.

“So your plan is to wait?” He asked instead, eyes closed against the tantalizing pain that erupted behind them, “Wait and see if Heaven does something about this?”

“They have to.” Azrael insisted, “It isn’t every day that the Lightbringer dies. They can’t just ignore it.”

Michael didn’t think they’d ignore it, but he didn’t think that anyone would do anything either. His best plan was to go talk to his Father, try and understand what was happening. Gabriel’s command had to have more to it than just simple hatred and coldness.

Could he do that though?

Could he march through the gates and demand an audience with their Father? Break into where his Father had stayed and refused to see anyone ever since Mother’s banishment? What would she have thought of this anyway? She loved Sammy. She was bad at showing it, but she really did.

Michael decided that he’d wait. Impulsiveness was more like Sammy than him. He was angry. He wanted revenge. He wanted to understand. He wanted his brother back. He was more than tempted to go on about this like Sam would’ve, but Michael was also more than afraid.

Sammy had always been the brave one anyway.

“You guys…” Ella shook her head, “All this celestial talk… I need a drink…”

Her eyes were still red. She’d spent hours comforting him and his sister. Azrael had hugged her back at least. Michael had just been frozen. He wasn’t sure how to accept her comfort, much less how to go about returning it. He appreciated it though.

She headed to the bar, carefully making her way through the wreckage of the Penthouse. Michael’s eyes flew to the huge, black stain on the floor. Rage flooded his veins again. Azrael hugged him tighter.

That was the spot he’d literally smote whatever remained of _her._

If he’d managed to do that earlier, would Sammy still be alive? Why was Sammy dead in the first place!

“M-Maze?” Ella frowned, dropping the broken bottle she’d been inspecting, “Maze! Mazikeen! Oh my god! Maze!”

The forensic scientist dropped to her knees, still screaming and talking in a mixture of English and… Spanish? The counter obscured her from view. Michael found himself getting up, gently tugging Azrael along with him. Chloe Decker didn’t even stir. 

“Maze!” Ella sobbed.

He rounded the corner and saw what all the fuss was about. On the ground, in a pool of her own blood, lay the demon that had helped them. 

Ella was checking for signs of life, but Michael knew that that was pointless.

Mazikeen of the Lilim was clearly gone.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer had no idea how much time he spent alone in the whiteness, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and fury.

He’d actually managed to fall asleep, not having nightmares or anything like that. For a while now, he’d been staring at his hands, mesmerized.

They were normal.

His body didn’t hurt. He could breathe freely and his mind was… clear. The anxiety and the fear that had plagued every waking moment ever since his most recent return to Earth was still there in the background of his mind, but it was somehow muted.

His head still held memories of his torture, but they didn’t torment him with every breath he took. He wasn’t horribly skinny like he’d been and his face was almost back to normal. He was even wearing a nice suit, one of his usual, simple black ones. For once, it fit him perfectly like it had done a long, long time ago.

Lucifer had missed this. He’d missed being himself. He’d missed not living in pain and fear all the time.

At first, he couldn’t even recognize it for what it was. He’d almost forgotten what “normal” felt like. That thought made him want to cry and laugh at the same time. This wasn’t the soothing and healing effect Heaven would have had on him though. Wherever he was, it wasn’t Heaven and it clearly wasn’t Hell.

What was Dad playing at?

“I want to give you your second chance.” His Father smiled.

Lucifer blinked and he found himself at his Penthouse.

It was just a replica though, the same as it’d been before the final showdown with _her._ Lucifer had missed it. Here he was sitting at his own beloved, Italian leather couch with his Father of all people sitting next to him.

“I thought a change of scenery would benefit you, my son. It might help boost your mood.”

“I believe a change of company would do a much better job of that.” Lucifer answered dryly, ignoring his maddening urge to scoot away from his Father.

He was tired of being a coward. He was tired of running away. He was tired of being tired in the first place.

“Why did you bring me here?” He demanded.

“You deserve a second chance.”

“A second chance?” Lucifer laughed, harsh and unyielding, “Are you out of your mind, Dad? What second chance are you talking about? You missed your chance at ‘giving me a second chance’ several millennia ago!”

“You deserve to live, Lucifer.” His Father simply said, reclining back on the couch as if they were simply watching a game of football or a great tv show together, “You deserve to be with Chloe and her daughter and all the friends you’ve made on Earth.”

“What about Hell?” He croaked, not even knowing where to start objecting to his Father’s statement.

“All will be revealed in due time.” His Father smiled again, “Just know that you are not going back there.”

“Oh, so you’re going to imprison me in Heaven?” Lucifer rose to his feet, furious, “You can’t possibly expect me to-”

“I don’t.” His Father cut in, “I am not even going to lift your ban yet, Lucifer. You still have a lot to learn. However, you have proven that you are capable of change and that is what truly matters.”

“How many ways are you going to find to get out of admitting that you were wrong when you tossed me out like I was garbage?” Lucifer laughed, raking a hand through his hair, “You can say it, you know. You _messed up._ I spent so long believing your lies and even longer _hating myself_ because of the image of me that you created,,,, that you had everyone, myself included, believe in! I still do, Dad. I… You can’t just think that after all this time, you just…”

“I don’t.” His Father cut in, “There are things at play beyond your understanding, Lucifer. You have grown and flourished. You have repeatedly proven yourself to be-”

“Say it!” Lucifer exploded, “Acknowledge it! Own up to it! You _abandoned_ me! You _hurt_ me in ways I still can’t understand! You _destroyed_ me, you _took away_ my life, you _stripped me of everything that_ -”

His Father vanished again.

The world melted back into white.

He was sitting there on the white “floor” still yelling at nothingness. Lucifer’s lips wobbled. The tears came before he even had a chance at stopping them.

He pulled his knees to his chest, hid his face in them, and let go.

The Devil cried.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

  
“So… she’s gone too?” Ella sobbed.

They were back on the floor next to the bed. This time, Michael had refused to join his sister and her friend. He sat cross legged in front of them instead, trying to ignore how wrong that felt. 

“Demons do not have a soul.” He told her, “When demons die, they just… die.”

“So we’ve… we’ve lost L-Lucifer and… and Maze?”

Michael couldn’t care less about the demon. He didn’t even know her. Were there demons worth knowing?

She’d helped, but still… She was just a demon. He didn’t know much about demons. He’d never even interacted with them much before they tortured his twin and caused his death.

_Because Sammy was dead. And it was partially his fault. Entirely his fault maybe?_

How did Sammy even survive his insane tendency to blame everything on himself? Michael was doubting that he could survive these next few hours.

Just then, the elevator dinged and a little girl appeared on the other side. Michael frowned, instantly recognizing her as Chloe Decker’s spawn, Beatrice. Sam had been really fond of her as well.

Like everyone, she took one look at him and grinned, screeching “Lucifer!” at the top of her lungs. She ran over to him, almost slamming into him and flinging her arms around him. Michael froze, unsure what to do or how to proceed.

"You look so much better than before!" She grinned, "I mean all the blood and... and..."

Sensing the impending disaster, Ella immediately jumped to her feet and rushed towards the little girl. She put a hand on her back, trying to get her to let go of "Lucifer".

“Trixie, hi!” She smiled warmly, wiping the tears from her own face, “I think… I think we should go downstaris, sweetie.”

“No way.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest, “First Mommy asks Daddy to take care of me in the middle of the week which _never_ happens. Then, Daddy acts all weird, staring off into space more often than not. Lucifer is not answering his phone and neither is Mommy and now the Penthouse looks like this?!! And Lucifer… why is are you covered in blood? Why are you crying, Ella? Why is-”

“I’ll explain everything, Trix.” Ella smiled, looping an arm around the little girl’s shoulders, maneuvering her towards the elevator, “Just… there’s a lot of glass here. A lot of broken stuff and… and… Just come downstairs with me and we’ll talk.”

“Why is Lucifer not talking to me?” The spawn asked, lips wobbling and eyes shiny despite her very brave act, “Lucifer, what happened? Did the bad guys hurt you or Mommy again? Where is she? Are you… are you okay?”

Michael stared at her, not realistically capable of forming any words. Of all the times he’d been mistaken for his twin and all the incidents that had led up to, this had to be the worst.

What could he even say?

“Lucifer, we’re family!” She almost yelled, seemingly losing whatever remarkable calm she'd been portraying so far, “You even admitted that yourself! Family doesn’t lie to each other. Family lets each other help out when someone is hurt or in danger. You can’t just send me off to sleep at Daddy’s house while you guys do… this.” She gestured behind them at the wreckage of what had once been Lucifer's home.

Just then, she broke away from Ella and truly looked around.

So far, with Ella, Michael, and the wreckage blocking most of the view of the Penthouse, the spawn could only see destruction. She didn’t have context, not when “Lucifer” was standing in front of her.

Now…

She could clearly see the feet poking out from the side of the bar. Quicker than anyone could stop her, the child ran over to the demon’s body and fell to her knees by her side.

“Maze?” The spawn seemed excited, worried but excited, “Maze!”

“Trixie, I think it’s best if we-”

“Maze is okay.” Trixie shook her head, “She’s… she’s crazy strong. She’s a _demon._ She can destroy a hundred bad guys with just her knives and… and she won’t even break a sweat. _Maze!_ ”

Michael was done with seeing loss for that day.

He had no idea how Azrael managed to do her job, century after century. Death was a concept he understood only vaguely. This finality it seemed to hold for humans, the finality he was experiencing in the light of Sammy’s demise, was foreign to all angels.

Did humans always cry this much over the loss of their loved ones? Most of them had no real faith; no realistic belief in seeing their loved ones again and being reunited. Death was just a huge question mark to them; something completely unknown and hence something to fear and run away from.

However, they were like mayflies. It was almost as if Father created humans with the sole purpose of dying with how pathetically short their lifespans were.

“Maze!”

The little girl was sobbing now, clinging to the demon’s corpse and saying things that Michael couldn’t really hear. He saw her lips moving and her little chest heaving with the force of her sobs and whatever she was screaming, but the words didn’t manage to make it past the blood roaring in Michael’s ears.

He’d never experienced something like this before.

He stood there, motionless, watching the world go by.

At some point, he blinked and Chloe Decker was there. Alongside Ella, she steered her daughter towards the elevator, muttering nonsense comforting words. 

At least the little girl hadn’t seen Sammy’s corpse, right?

She thought he was her “Lucifer”.

Michael wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get himself to believe that any of this was good.

Michael was lost. He didn't think that he was going to find his way back to a semblance of sense any time soon.

Quite possibly never. That didn't hurt as much as it should have though.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

The next time his Father showed up, Lucifer’s behaviour surprised even himself.

The Old Man had come and gone what felt like hundreds of times already. Every single time, they’d fight. Well, Lucifer would fight and his Father would just smile, indulge him for a little bit, and then vanish.

There was no getting out of the whiteness either. As far as Lucifer could tell, he was in a pocket universe of sorts; an intradimensional prison cell designed specifically for him by his Dear Old Dad.

He had no idea if all the souls harvested by Azrael’s blade went into places a bit like this. Energy could not be destroyed and souls were energy. Did that mean that even eternal obliteration and being wiped from existence meant spending an eternity in vast nothingness? No Hell and no Heaven, but no rest either?

This place was strange. 

Time was not regular or linear as far as he could tell. The fabric of the universe around him was wrong. It was nothing like the universe he’d helped build and create. There was no sun and no stars. No light and no darkness. Everything was just white and that fact alone seemed to be the only constant around him.

The whiteness was infinite. It was not the kind of infinite that a person would associate with an incredibly long road. Instead, it was the kind of infinite that one sensed upon walking around the circumference of a circle for an eternity, passing the exact same set of dots without ever being able to tell if they'd ever been there or not.

In short, Lucifer _hated_ every single second of this.

It was exactly like his Father to torture him like this too.

Lock him up, take away his hard-earned right of respite, and endlessly pop in to make him feel weak and worthless.

“My intention is never to make you feel weak or worthless, son.” His Father frowned, “You are neither. You are, now I suppose, Lucifer the Morningstar, the Lightbringer, the-”

“Spare me your stupid lies.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, wishing he could stop being that angry.

They were at the precinct this time. The bullpen was empty. The world was quiet. Lucifer hated how sitting at the Detective's desk made him feel at home. He hated how seeing his Father sitting across from him felt like a form of violation.

It wasn’t like the precinct was his personal property.

“It is a part of your home, though, is it not?” His Dad asked, acting as though He did not know the answer to that question already, “It greatly saddens me than even my presence at any location you associate with "home" makes you feel that way, son, but you must know that-”

“Do you seriously think that we’ll make up and go back to how everything was a few billion years ago?” Lucifer scoffed, fidling with his cufflinks without even noticing it. He looked his Father straight in the eye, feeling an odd rush of power surge through him. “I don’t think you understand, Dad. I don’t care how many times you show up here or how many times you opt to leave. I don’t care about what you say or how you choose to twist my words, I will never forgive you! Especially not when you can’t even apologize or admit that you’ve done wrong by me!”

“Yes, as I already know.”

“Then why do we keep going around in bloody circles?” Lucifer slammed his hands on the table, making coffee slosh out of the steaming mug located close by. He hated how his mind began playing a thousand memories of him filling that cup for the Detective. “Do you just want to torture me for all of eternity? Was everything I went through not enough for you?”

That thought had been scaring Lucifer.

How do you get out when your Father was the supreme creator? Where do you even go?

Human offspring had it easy compared to this.

Running away never worked. Hiding never worked. _Dying_ never worked!

His Father was everywhere. Nowhere was safe. Even back when he’d been happily living in LA and only marginally struggling with his Father’s deals and manipulations, Lucifer had known that it could never last.

Perhaps he’d just been created to suffer and be tortured. If this was what happened when your soul was destroyed, what…?

“You have no idea how much it breaks my heart to hear you talk like that.”

“And you have no idea how much it breaks mine to hear you talk at all.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Sets my chest on damn fire every time you open your bloody mouth and spew out more lies and more manipulation. Are you done listening to my thoughts?”

“I am not here to torture you or make you suffer.” His Father stated, leaning back in his chair, “I am here to give you a second chance.”

Again with this second chance.

“Did you give Uriel a second chance?” Lucifer demanded, fearing the answer himself, “Did you pull his soul away from wherever… before whatever should have happened when I… when I…”

All this time and he couldn’t even say it.

“Uriel is different.” His Father sighed, “He… No, he did not have the luxury of a second chance. Not like this.”

“He deserves it more than I do!”

“You need to stop believing you do not deserve anything good, Lucifer.” His Father advised.

“Oh, I wonder who’s fault is that.”

“Lucifer…”

“Uriel deserves your second chance more than I do.” Lucifer insisted, “Leave me here alone and go offer it to him if your infinite power can’t offer more than one chance to your sons.”

“Your Mother was much better than I am at this.” His Father chuckled, smiling sadly, “She would’ve known what to say.”

“Oh, believe me, she would not have.”

“What you did was incredibly brave.” His Father praised, “I do miss her immensely, but I suppose that that was for the best.”

“Go bring Uriel back.” Lucifer sighed, tired of fighting and yelling.

“It doesn’t work like that, my son.” His Father smiled again and again and again, “You need to go back to your… your family on Earth. Your second chance. Uriel’s path is different than yours.”

“As in… his path ended with him falling off a bloody, endless cliff with no way to escape, and the amazing path I’m supposed to go back on is watching the woman I... love be manipulated by you in some lame attempt at what…? Apologizing?”

“Chloe Decker’s feelings are her own.” His Father stressed, “We have had this discussion several hundred times already. You know that I speak the truth, son. However, you keep arguing and refusing to believe me because you find it impossible to believe that someone could love you as wholly and as fully as Chloe does.”

Because it _was_ impossible.

No one could ever love _him._

He was a monster. He was broken. He was shattered.

He was a burden, a failure, a disgrace, a-

“And that is why you must return to Earth, Lucifer.” His Father sighed, “These humans… Even I could not have anticipated the profound impact they’ve had on you. You need it. They provide you with something that I haven’t been able to correctly provide you for a long time.”

“What’s that?” Lucifer whispered, loathing how eagerly he was waiting for the answer.

Of course, his Dad said nothing at all. He just continued to stare at him with a sad look in his eyes, infinite and never-ending.

“I won’t go back.” Lucifer laughed, shaking his head, “You can’t make me. I'll find a way. I'll... I'm done with being manipulated by you. I don't care what I have to do, but _I'm done._ ”

“Are you… threatening me with… being unhappy?”

Lucifer thought about it and reviewed his own train of thought, realizing that that crude statement might have summed it up.

“I could go back,” Lucifer gulped, “on one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“You make me mortal like the Detective. Always.”


	12. LIES GREED MISERY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE A RELEASE DATE!!!
> 
> Extra long chapter to make up for the wait... Sorry...
> 
> Again, this is a fic written for fun. This isn't what I think season 5 will be like. It's just fun... I'm making the plot up as I go actually. Hope you like it!

Daniel Espinoza had never been much of a dreamer.

Usually, he slept deeply, never recalling his dreams if he even had them in the first place.

Not this one though.

He was walking for a long time, strolling through fields of white. He was at peace, calm and serene in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. Dan walked around with a lazy smile on his face, not sure why he was smiling, but feeling too good to overthink it.

Then, the world around him shifted.

Instead of white, he found himself somewhere he hadn’t visited in ages.

To make matters even worse, it seemed like the place was like it had been a long time ago before it’s tenant got brutally murdered and shattered Dan’s heart beyond repair. Dan felt as though he was about to pass out as he stared at the messy living room around him.

“I thought a familiar place would make this easier.”

_No._

“Ch-charlotte?” He stuttered, now certain that he was about to pass out.

There she was; Charlotte Richards. She was as alive and as beautiful as ever. She looked divine. Dressed in a long, flowing, light dress and almost glowing, she looked like the picture of health.

“Dan.” She smiled, nervous.

Dan didn’t care about anything.

In that moment, he just did what felt right. That seemed to be running up to her, throwing his arms around her, and smashing their lips together.

“So, you’ve missed me?” She grinned, hands looping around his neck.

“More than you could imagine.” He breathed, leaning in to kiss her again.

After their little, impromptu make out session, Dan found himself on the couch. Charlotte was pressed to his side, hugging him. He could have stayed like that forever, just basking in the comfort of being around the woman he loved.

She’d died too soon. 

It hadn’t been fair. Charlotte hadn’t deserved any of it. 

“You need to stop thinking like that, Dan.”

Dan tensed, unsure how she was even able to hear his thoughts. Was she? Or did she just know him that well?

“It’s for your own good.” She continued, “Dan, the things I’ve learned… Guilt only drags you down.”

Wait, if Lucifer was the devil, then Charlotte was…

“Yes, heaven is wonderful.” Charlotte smiled, “It’s why I’d like to see you here again. We could be reunited, you know? Just the two of us and everyone we love for all of eternity…”

“How?” He croaked, eyes stinging. 

He wasn’t a good man.

Lucifer was horrible, but he was…

Dan had screwed up in his life. A lot. Even if there was a chance for him to meet Charlotte again, what were the odds of him going to heaven?

Actually, considering the fact that Lucifer hates him, Dan was almost certain that he was going south.

“Lucifer has nothing to do with who ends where.” Charlotte sighed, “That’s another thing you need to stop doing; blaming Lucifer for everything. It wasn’t his fault, Dan. You know that. Let go of it.”

“Not you too!”

And suddenly, Dan was furious.

Charlotte could have asked anything of him and he would have been happy to oblige. Seeing her again was a dream come true; a fantasy. He was sure that none of this was real, but he didn’t care.

Why did she have to bring _him_ up though? Even in the privacy of his own mind and the serenity of what was supposed to be his dream… it was all about Lucifer _fucking_ Morningstar of all people.

“Dan.” Charlotte sighed again, “Please.”

He’d gotten up. Dan hadn’t realized.

He allowed Charlotte to take his hand and let him sit down again.

She could do anything to him after all. Anything at all. As long as it meant he could touch her, hear her voice, be next to her…

He hadn’t even known how much he’d missed her.

“Oh, Dan…” 

Then she was hugging him and Dan was crying. It wasn’t as loud or as obnoxious as he’d imagined. The tears burned down his cheeks and fire spread through his veins. It was the most liberating and the most suffocating feeling he’d ever experienced. 

“You need to let go.” Charlotte told him again, stroking his back, “Lucifer isn’t the best of people, but he isn’t the worst. Everything that’s been going on with you two… You’re hurting yourself more than you’re hurting him, Dan. You know that. Lucifer isn’t worth it. No one is.”

She wasn’t just blaming him. She was…

 _Fuck._ He’d missed her. More than anyone could imagine.

“No one is worth your pain or guilt.” She continued, “Never. My death wasn’t your fault.”

“Charlotte…”

“You know that.” She persisted, pulling back and jabbing him in the chest, “Not your fault. Not Lucifer’s fault. No one’s fault except for Cain. Pierce. Marcus Pierce. Let go, Dan. I know it’s hard. You have to try though.”

How?

He was lost. He was beyond hope and salvage. He was… He was never going to see Charlotte or anyone else again after he died.

How could he when he was heading straight to Hell after everything he’d done. Of course he was. Everyone was going to get a happy ending except for him.

“Lucifer is dead.” Charlotte said, changing tactics.

“What?”

“Dead.” She repeated, “No Hell and no Heaven. Just gone. Happened a few hours ago on Earth.”

Dan paled. He had no idea why his heart sank the way it did or why his tears fell a little faster.

He didn’t care if Lucifer died. Good riddance. Of course he didn’t care. 

“He’ll be back though.” Charlotte smiled, sad and yet hopeful, “His Father told me as much. He said it wasn’t His son’s time, not that it would ever be.”

_His Father._

God.

“You spoke to God?” Dan sputtered, raking a hand through his hair.

This was too much.

He’d always been a believer. He wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about religion as Ella, but he’d grown up catholic. Somehow, _knowing_ felt… _different._

Wait. He’d done all of that to God’s favourite son.

Who was an asshole who stole his pudding and watched movies with his daughter.

Who loved action movies.

Who was dating his ex-wife.

“Dan?” Charlotte mused, shaking his shoulder, “Still here?”

He nodded, blinking, not sure what “here” meant.

“He told me to talk to you.” Charlotte smiled, “Gave me the permission to. I-I’m not sure why. Maybe Lucifer or one of his brothers… I really don’t know. I just figured that I should use this. Less questioning, more getting things done.”

“So Lucifer will be back?”

She nodded.

“It’s all about second chances. Forgiveness. Being good.”

“But, I’m not a good man, Charlotte!”

“And neither was I.” She bit her lip, “I ended up in Hell the first time I passed away, didn’t I? Everyone screws up, Dan. You’re a good man. Your heart is in the right place. Just, do me the favor of never forgetting that, okay? I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

“Don’t go!” Dan cried, clinging to her.

“I’ll be seeing you again.” She promised, hugging him one last time, “I promise. Basically… Dan, babe, stop being a “douche” so that we can enjoy eternal bliss and... waffles in the afterlife together, okay?”

She was grinning by the end of her little summary, her eyes almost glowing as she stared at him with more love than he thought he deserved.

Dan heard himself laugh before he even registered it. 

She kissed him for the last time and held him. Dan sagged in her arms, breathing her in. He finally leaned away from her, brushing her hair away from her eyes with his trembling fingers.

That was when he noticed that glistening bracelet on her wrist.

“Heaven has more than a few perks.” She smiled, “I love you, Dan.”

“I love you too.”

The world melted back into white and then black.

Dan woke up.

His cheeks were wet, but his chest was oddly lighter.

Dan was finally free.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“So Maze is never coming back?” Trixie’s lips wobbled, “And… and Lucifer is d-dead too?”

“I’m so sorry, Monkey…”

She’d tried her hardest to explain this to her daughter in the least traumatizing way she could think of. Ella had gone back to the Penthouse, giving them privacy. Trixie had been denying it all for the past hour.

Was she finally believing her? Was denial going to melt away into whatever came next in the harrowing journey of losing someone you love?

Trixie clung to her, burying her face in the crook of Chloe’s neck. Chloe just held her, thinking of a time in the past where her daughter was tiny enough to comfortably sit in her lap for hours. Those were the best of times.

Back when Maze was her crazy, ninja bartender of a roommate and Lucifer was her quirky, annoying partner.

Now Lucifer was… and Maze...

Chloe hadn’t known that it was physically possible to cry this much. She was trying to be strong for Trixie, but she just…

“I-I know about Maze. She told me.” Trixie hiccupped, “I… How could she die though? She’s the toughest demon _ever._ Lucifer… Lucifer is _immortal._ He said so himself!”

“He’s been sick, baby.” Chloe managed to say, every word feeling like she was coughing up shards of broken glass, “You know that… Remember? He’s been sick and…”

“Bring them back!” Trixie suddenly yelled, “Bring them both back! They were my best friends! Mommy, please, I just want them back!”

Chloe closed her eyes, hugging her daughter tighter. It took another hour or so, but Trixie finally cried herself to sleep.

Chloe sat there for a long time, stroking her daughter’s hair. Her mind was a mess of distant memories and jumbled thoughts. Her body didn’t feel like hers. Deep down, Chloe was almost sure that none of this was real.

How could it be?

Trixie was right.

Maze was a demon. Lucifer was the devil.

How could they be gone?

Lucifer… she was never going to see him again. Every time she managed to get herself to calm down, that same thought would pop up in her head and something inside her would break.

How could she move on?

The answer was currently slumped into her side though. She had to be strong for Trixie. The little girl had lost two of the most important people in her life. She would need help and support too.

Chloe remembered the months Lucifer had been down there. She remembered how she did everything on autopilot, her heart aching every time someone called her “Detective” and her eyes stinging every time she drove down Sunset Boulevard.

The Penthouse would be empty now as well.

With Maze gone too, even the club would be empty.

Life was going to morph back into “normal”.

Chloe didn’t want normal though. She wanted her devil and demon back. By now though, Chloe knew that that was not how life worked.

Wiping at her eyes, she gently laid Trixie down on the couch. She covered her daughter with a blanket she found in a closet in one of the "guest" bedrooms and kissed her forehead before heading to the elevator. She had some business to take care of.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

His Father _laughed._

The asshole gave him one long look and burst into laughter.

“And why would I do that?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere Chloe isn’t.” Lucifer snapped.

Chloe was his only reason to exist and go on. The spawn too, he supposed. 

“Where would you go once Chloe Decker dies?” His Father mused, “Back to Hell?”

Lucifer’s breath hitched.

Not there. Not Hell. Anywhere but Hell.

_No. No. No._

Why was he acting like this? He was the King of Hell! He shouldn’t be horrified at the thought of… of…

“Calm down, my son.” His Father sighed. He felt his father’s hand on his chest, near where his heart was. Lucifer could breathe.

He felt the panic recede. The edges of his vision cleared and his heart quieted down to an almost normal rhythm.

“Don’t touch me!” Lucifer bellowed, flinching away from his Father.

“You never think things through, Lucifer.” His Dad shook his head, nonplussed, “It is one of your greatest flaws. I... I suppose the technical term would be that I _owe_ you. You deserve something after... I am willing to grant you a desire… a wish of sorts, if you want. It has to be well-thought of though. Think, my son.”

 _A wish._

Was he in one of the urchin’s bloody movies?

_What could he even do?_

“I could make the Detective immortal.” He breathed, wondering if that was the solution.

His Father said nothing, waiting.

“Except that… I can’t.” Lucifer realized after a minute, “It would not be fair to her. I-I can’t do something like that. Not to her. _Never._ ”

How could he? He had no idea if she wanted something like that. This particular plan had too many flaws. Who said that the Detective would truly want to spend eternity with him? What about the spawn? Even if he made them both immortal… It didn’t work.

He thought about Cain. The only immortal human. Look at how _that_ had turned out. Could he possibly do that to the humans he… loved?

Even if most humans would desire something like immortality… He couldn’t make the choice for them. They deserved to die and move on to heaven.

Away from him.

He would be lucky if the Detective stayed with him for a few human years. Actually-

“You need to see something, my son.”

Before he could object, his Father’s hand was on his shoulder. Lucifer felt the energy shift around them. For the millionth time since he’d died, the world around him changed. 

Now, Lucifer wasn’t stupid. He’d helped design the pretty little thing humans call _“the universe”._ He knew that he wasn’t there, but still…

He closed his eyes, cringing at the destruction around him. His Penthouse was a mess.

Miss Lopez was sitting at the foot of his wrecked bed, Michael and Azrael huddled on either side of her. They were all crying.

On the bed though, next to what he assumed was his own mutilated body…

The Detective.

 _The Detective_ was there.

Lucifer creeped closer to the bed, a low whimper escaping his lips. His feet carried him towards the woman he loved blindly, his heart more than enough of a guide.

She was crying.

He felt the ache of his own tears as he scanned the battlefield that was her face. With her red nose and swollen eyes… With her seemingly never-ending tears...

Lucifer extended one hand towards her, cradling her cheek. He wiped at the hot tears, a tear of his own escaping when he couldn’t.

The Detective didn’t even acknowledge him. Of course not. She couldn’t even feel his hand on her face. None of them saw him or heard him. Their senses would never be enough to tell them that he was in the same room. Not even Michael would have known.

Why was she so miserable though?

“If she could feel your hand on her face, son, I can assure you that all her misery would fade away.”

Lucifer cringed, his hand flying away from his beloved’s face as if he’d been burned.

He’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone. How could he remember anything though when he was faced with Chloe Decker crying?

That was impossible.

“They all cry for you, Lucifer.” His Dad continued, “You are much more loved than you could possibly imagine, my son.”

“Oh, and you love me too?” Lucifer snorted, bitterness dripping off of every word, “You sure have a funny way of showing it, Dad.”

He began to pace, partially to get away form his Father’s suffocating presence and partially because seeing the Detective _cry_ and not being able to do anything about it was his own worst nightmare.

“Why did you bring me here?” Lucifer mused, “If you are trying to cure me of self-loathing, then I can assure you that Doctor Linda and I have tried and failed. There isn’t much more to explore there.”

“I never thought that I’d say the day when you of all my children would give up on something.”

“Even a devil has his limits.” Lucifer shrugged, “Then-”

He saw her.

There behind the bar. 

Mazikeen. _Mazikeen!_

He couldn’t feel her.

It had nothing to do with not fully being on the earthly plane though.

“Maze!” He blinked and he was suddenly on his knees, trying to cradle her face. He could only touch her. She didn’t move.

_“You’re the devil.” Mazikeen sneered, “Stop caring.”_

So long ago...

But he did care. His demon was gone! His protector. His longest companion. His _best friend._ He knew that he shouldn’t be reacting to this, but… but…

He was back in his Father’s study.

His Dad was crouched next to him, his dark eyes overflowing with concern. Lucifer’s hands were on the floor, scraping at the carpet. There was no demon corpse for him to cry over here.

“Mazikeen died in battle?” He asked quietly, rising to his feet.

“She died combatting her mother.” His Father affirmed.

“Do they know?”

His body was on a bed and everyone was busy crying over it. That was the point of going in the first place wasn't it? Seeing how "loved" he was?

Maze though. She looked like she hadn’t been moved. Surely they would have…

“They do now.” His Father told him, “What I showed you was taking place a few Earth minutes ago.”

“Maze died alone?” He hated how lost he sounded, “No one knew?”

“They were busy with you.” His Father shrugged, “The battle went on between your twin and Lilith long after your demon died. You had quite the dramatic exit as well. Michael tried to save you several times, Lucifer. He was-”

“No one even paid attention to her?”

_No._

“Why do you care so much about one demon?” His Father asked carefully.

“She is my friend!” Lucifer yelled, “She… she was my friend! Maze didn’t deserve that!”

“She was your protector.” His Father pointed out, “Dying as she fought for you and defended you… wasn’t that what your relationship was always going to end?”

“I released her from her oath! She wasn’t… Maze was more than that…”

Maze would have laughed at him. She would have probably slapped him or thrown something sharp at him if she ever saw him cry over her demise. The old Maze. The new Maze too.

Lucifer was shit at showing it, but she meant the world to him. She wasn’t the Detective, but Maze wasn’t just some demon either.

He knew that he was broken. His mind was fragile and his psyche was shattered. Lucifer had no idea who he was anymore. Eons he’d spent at hell, the poison, all the time he’d spent here talking to his Father and staring at nothingness…

No wonder he couldn’t find the point in being alive.

“You care for this demon.”

“Of course I do!”

His Dad would never understand. Angels and humans were His creation. Demons were Lilith’s. Hating them was in the nature of every angel. Humans were unsettled by them as well. They were too different. 

He had to fix this.

“You said you owe me!” Lucifer exclaimed, laughing. He probably looked insane, but he couldn’t care less. He was done losing. The idea that just popped into his head was one of his oddest and stupidest. Again, Lucifer didn't care. “A wish… A desire…”

“Lucifer?”

“Bring Mazikeen back.” Lucifer challenged, “Give her a soul unlike that of any of your children, Dad. That’s what _I desire._ ”

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“D-do angels have funerals?”

“Angels don’t die.” Michael snapped, “No angel has ever died.”

Except for Lucifer.

“What do we do with him then?” Chloe continued, “His body, I mean. Do we bury him? Cremate him?”

“You will do no such thing!”

Michael was already at the anger stage of grief. Wow. Nice.

Chloe was still stuck at denial. She was functioning to move on because that’s what she should do and because her little daughter was asleep downstairs with dried tears on her cheeks.

Whatever she was doing just then was not moving on though. She was pretending. She was trying. She was begging the world to make sense.

How could it ever do that without Lucifer in it?

“We can’t just leave him here forever.” She sniffed, “Lucifer deserves better.”

“Sammy did not deserve any of this!” Michael snarled, whipping around to face her, “I… I will fix it. There _has_ to be a way.” He nodded to himself, “There has to be a way,” He repeated, “and I will be the one to find it!”

It wasn’t like she would object to that. She didn’t want anything more than she wanted to see Lucifer open his eyes again.

The Archangel Michael, angry, bloodied, and injured, yelling at her in her dead boyfriend’s wrecked penthouse… What was her life?

“Michael-”

“Shut up, Chloe Decker.” Michael ordered, “I need to think.”

Again. Wow.

Michael went back to pacing. He was too lost in thought. He didn’t even blink when Ella and Azrael called his name several times.

Chloe had something else to focus on.

Lucifer would’ve hated having a funeral. He loathed such things on a principle. Burning his body seemed wrong, but burying it seemed even more wrong.

Could she even do that?

The poison that had destroyed it… was it dangerous? Why was everything so _fucking_ messed up?

Could she have stopped this?

If she’d found a way to prevent him from going to Hell back when they were on that balcony and then again recently… If she hadn’t reacted like she had… If she hadn’t practically driven him to Eve’s arms…? If she'd found a way to stop Lilith and the demons...

So many choices. Too many. The possibilities were endless. Chloe was no stranger to death and loss. She knew that drowning in what could have been was pointless. She was just torturing herself, wedging the knife deeper into her soul with her own shaking hand.

Lucifer deserved better.

So much better.

Step one would be touching him. That was all she had to do. A few hours later, she realized that she hadn’t been able to. Not yet anyway. How could she?

Touching him would make this real.

His cold skin and the never ending blackness of the poison… No jokes and no innuendos. No looks of adoration and no confused glances.

Nothing.

She only held him and hugged him close. After Michael moved him…

Would that make it real? Would it flip some sort of switch in her mind and get her out of this nightmare? Or would it plunge her into an even worse one?

Would Chloe suddenly realize that no one was ever going to bring her coffee and drive her crazy? Would her heart and mind finally accept the reality around her?

There was only one way to find out.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Doctor Linda Martin was beyond fed up.

After what happened with Charlie, she realized that staying here in Heaven for a while until the threat of “The Mother of Demons” passed was her best option. She only wanted what was best for her son. Linda couldn’t imagine leaving him, sending him to live in the Silver City without her, and missing out on him growing up and aging.

She was still worried though.

She was worried about her friends down on Earth. She was worried about Lucifer. From what she’d managed to get out of his cantankerous twin on the few visits Michael had paid to the Silver City lately, Lucifer needed her help.

Well, actually, Lucifer needed a lot more than just her help, but still. If half of what she had heard was true…

She was beside herself with concern for her favourite patient. 

Going to Hell had already been one of the worst things that he could have done. She’d cried when she realized what it meant. He had done it for them; for Charlie, Chloe, Trixie, and for all of humanity.

At what cost though?

Then, learning what had befallen him in Hell…

Amenadiel kept reassuring her that it would all work out. He kept insisting that his Father had a “plan”. It wasn’t the same talk as before though.

Apparently, God had talked to him.

Linda hadn’t managed to piece together what Amenadiel meant by that exactly. He’d run out of the house after kissing her on the forehead and saying goodbye to Charlie, swearing that he would explain it all later.

He’d looked furious.

He’d said something about finding Gabriel and-

“Linda Martin?”

Linda jumped, her eyes instantly flying to Charlie’s crib in the corner. Charlie was safe, still asleep. She turned around to face her surprise guest, trying to breathe deeply.

And they said that Lucifer was the devil.

None of the angels knew anything about knocking on doors.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.” The blonde angel smiled. It was the same smile she saw on the faces of senators and presidents. Businessmen. Lawyers. TV Show hosts.

Confident and designed to put you at ease; a perfect mask. Yet, it made something twist and writhe in your gut while alarm bells wailed in the farthest corner of your mind.

Out of all the angels she’d met, Gabriel was her least favourite. She wanted him as far away from Charlie as possible.

“About what?” She asked, smiling back, gesturing to the couch in the corner.

The house was lovely. The Silver City had made a near replica of her house, complete with baby-proofed ceilings. It was comforting, but it wasn’t home.

It wasn’t Earth. It wasn’t Los Angeles.

“Your prolonged stay here.” Gabriel replied, declining her offer. He stood tall and proud, his presence almost suffocating. 

Something about him told her that he’d changed or that he’d cracked. She wasn’t psychic or anything, but the way Gabriel carried himself… Something was different. Something was wrong.

She hadn’t been able to shake that feeling away despite how much she’d tried in the past few weeks. She hasn’t really gone out and met a lot of angels. She wasn’t even realistically allowed to go out (not that many of these angels wanted to talk to her or meet her son in the first place… Those pompous assholes).

“God Himself apparently blessed it and even endorsed it.” She frowned, “I’m not sure what’s there to talk about.”

“You are human and not dead.” Gabriel sneered, “I am sure that you know how abnormal your presence here is.”

“And I am sure that you know how abnormal the circumstances are.” Linda smiled, adjusting her glasses, “Don’t take this in the wrong way, but I wouldn’t be here unless I had to, Gabriel.”

“Ah, so we both agree on something.”

“Yes, I find that very surprising as well.” She snorted, still as civil as she could manage, “Is there anything that I could help you with?”

“You need to leave.” Gabriel repeated, lips thin and eyes like ice chips, “Everything has been restored to its correct order. Your presence is one of the few remaining aberrations.”

“You have no say in where I come and go. Not when your Father has decided that I should stay here.”

She needed Amenadiel. Now. There was something in Gabriel’s eyes… No human could ever help her. Lucifer was out of the question, obviously. Where was Amenadiel?!!

“Oh, I am doing Father a favor.” Gabriel informed her, stepping closer, “I am fixing all my siblings’ mistakes.”

As he spoke that last poisonous word, his eyes flew to the crib in the corner.

Linda’s world crashed down on her head. _Not again._

“Don’t you dare!” She yelled in the most threatening tone she could manage, moving to protect her son.

Could she even do that? What could Gabriel do? She was already in the Silver City. Could someone die here? If she did, where was her soul getting sent to?

She didn’t care.

There was only one concern in her mind at the moment and it was the wiggling, whimpering little boy in the crib behind her.

When had Charlie woken up?

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

The next minute or so was chaos.

Golden wings out, Gabriel smacked her to the floor. Somehow, she managed to get on her feet and grab Charlie. Throughout the commotion, Charlie broke into tears.

She held him close to her, wondering if there was any place to go to. Should she pray? Was this it?

Gabriel tucked his wings away after he knocked out most of their furniture in the heat of the argument. He didn’t want anyone to know that he was here.

“What do you want from him?”

“His sheer existence is a violation of our sacred laws.” Gabriel shrugged, “He must be removed as well.”

He advanced towards her again, intensifying her fear for her son’s life. When Gabriel managed to wretch Charlie from her arms, Linda thought that that was it. No one was probably coming to help. No one cared.

A sob tore through her throat as she scrambled to reach her son. Gabriel was too fast. His wings were gone, too huge to properly maneuver around. He was still more than rapid and strong enough.

Of course he was. He was an archangel.

Linda was just human. She wasn’t even the strongest or tallest human out there.

“Let him go!” She screamed, shaking.

This was the Silver City, otherwise known as Heaven. Can someone die here?

Charlie was half-angel. He was technically God’s grandson. He was Gabriel’s nephew. This was impossible.

“He’s your nephew!”

“He’s a mistake.” Gabriel deadpanned, holding the squirming, crying child at arm's length, “ _It’s_ a mistake. Samael just led Amenadiel down the dark path with him and this,” he shook Charlie, making him cry harder, “was one of the results.”

She had to do something. She just had to! What was there to do?

Gabriel picked something out of his white robe. A vial of clear, thick, black liquid glistened in his hand. 

“I suppose this would be more than enough to get rid of him quickly.” He grinned, “It would not take that much time either.”

“No!”

“Oh, you are nothing more than a human.” Gabriel shook his head, “You would never understand. I am cleaning our Family’s name, Linda Martin. Samael has poisoned us for far too long with his actions. Your offspring is a consequence of the same origin. I pray that you will understand one day.”

“Charlie is not a mistake.” She stated, breathing heavily. She tried to take a step closer and cringed when Gabriel immediately tightened his hold on her son, “Lucifer… Lucifer has made a lot of mistakes, but none to the extent that you’re describing. You’re just blaming him for everything that happened between your parents. Based on what Lucifer, Amenadiel, and even your Mother told me… that isn’t true.”

The most dysfunctional family in all of creation.

She hadn’t realized to what extent until now though.

“How dare you?” Gabriel snarled, “I know all about your lies and deceit! You work to _heal_ Samael as if there is something to heal or cure! He is just evil and rotten to the core. Everything that happened is his fault! Mother and Father fighting… Mother getting banished to Hell. Father not speaking to us for millennia at a time. Michael. Uriel. What happened to Amenadiel. Mother being in a different dimension with no means of contacting her. Samael poisoned our lives and I… I had to take matters into my own hands. I had to protect my family.”

“This isn’t protection.” She reasoned, feeling like she might pass out any second, “You are going to murder an innocnet child.”

“His sheer existence is a violation of innocence.” Gabriel sighed, “I believe Samael has corrupted you beyond redemption. You must perish as well, human.”

“You can’t kill humans!” Linda cried out. Then it hit her. “Charlie is half angel and half human. You can’t kill either!”

“You said it yourself.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, “He is neither human nor angel. He is an aberration; a mistake I am going to rid Father’s creation from.”

That was when Linda became certain that all her reasoning was useless. It wasn’t like she thought she was going to change Gabriel's mind. He was clearly… determined. Insane. _Batshit crazy._

They all worked.

She’d thought that she’d buy herself and her son some time. Maybe Amenadiel would come back. Maybe God was going to send someone, anyone. Was it possible for innocent blood to be spilled in Heaven of all places?

What the fuck was her life?

Charlie… Charlie didn’t deserve this.

Gabriel held him still with an iron grip, forcing his mouth open with two of his fingers. The vial unsealed itself and the black liquid began to tickle out of it and into her son’s mouth.

Linda surged forward, her mind devoid of any logical thought. She was not going to stand by while her son was going to get murdered! Even if she accomplished nothing, she had to try. There had to be something…

It didn’t happen in slow motion. As a matter of fact, when this comes back to haunt Linda’s dreams, she was sure that it would be a messy jumble of emotions and blurred pictures.

One thing was for certain though.

Before the liquid even made it to his mouth, Charlie managed to bite Gabriel’s finger. The vial crashed to the ground, the black sludge staining the carpet.

Gabriel recoiled but didn’t let go. Of course he didn’t let go. It wasn’t that easy. A second passed though, a second where Gabriel was almost distracted.

It was a second too long.

Still crying at the top of his lung, Charlie managed to get away.

Tiny, obsidian wings flecked with beautiful patterns of gold erupted from his back. They were huge in comparison to Charlie’s little body. With one furious beat of his wings, he hit Gabriel in the face and escaped.

They weren't fluffy and... They were proper wings. _Angel wings. Weapons._

Gabriel groaned, blood dripping down his chin from the huge, oblique cut extending from just beneath his lip and all the way to just under his eye on the opposite side of his face. His blue eyes flashed, a furious growl emanating from his throat.

Charlie flew away, heading towards her.

“Charlie get away!”

He should fly… somewhere. The house was too crammed for Gabriel to use his own huge wings. He couldn’t go out though. That would make Charlie lose his leverage.

“Upstairs, Charlie!” She cheered, vision blurry from her tears. She hadn’t even managed to get up off the floor yet. Was her ankle broken? She didn’t know. “Go, baby! Hurry up! Go!”

“No!” Gabriel yelled. The words seemed to freeze the air. Linda trembled. 

Who was she kidding?

This was a temporary fix if there ever was any. It wasn’t enough for Charlie to get away. It wasn’t enough to save him. Gabriel would follow the little boy anywhere he went. No one was coming to help.

This was a distraction at best, but could she even lose hope?

“Go, Charlie!”

She’d always thought that she’d be afraid the moment Charlie sprouted wings. She’d spent hours freaking out over that possibility. She’d made Amenadiel angry and upset more times than she could count by wishing that Charlie never grew wings.

At the moment though, this was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Gabriel moved as quick as lightning, reaching out for her son. The commotion lasted for a little while, a bit comic with the way Charlie was beating his tiny wings furiously to get away and Gabriel was running around after him.

She wasn’t laughing though. She was still trying to figure out a solution.

Her heart lurched when Gabriel somehow grabbed Charlie’s leg. Charlie screeched, trying to get away. Gabriel was too strong. He looked almost maniac, blood covering half his face and anger setting his cold eyes ablaze.

She thought that it was over.

Just then, the front door got knocked down.

Literally.

In a blur, Amenadiel pounced on his brother, pinning him to the ground.

“Charlie!”

But Charlie was okay. He just stumbled and whined before flying again. This time, he flew to her arms directly. Linda held him close, burying her nose in his curly hair and breathing him in.

Charlie was okay. He was okay.

She was sobbing uncontrollably, feeling pathetic as she cradled her son to her chest, huddled on the floor.

How could she think tht she would ever be up for this? She was _human._ She would never be strong enough to protect her son.

The two angels fought. Half the house was destroyed. She managed to take Charlie and run out the front door, confident that Amenadiel was more than strong enough to fight his brother.

Amenadiel was the strongest of all angels; the Number One Warrior of the Silver City.

Gabriel was more of a politician of sorts. He was strong, impossibly so in comparison to a human woman like her and a little baby.

Had it been Chloe, would she have been able to do something?

Linda had no gun. She had no combat training. She didn’t think that she was brave or strong. It was true that bravery and strength were relative and not only limited to physical fights. However, how many times was Charlie going to get hurt because his mother could do nothing to help?

He’d already been hurt too many times.

She didn't understand what was going on with Gabriel. Was this why Amenadiel had been tasked with capturing his brother by their Father?

Linda tried to breathe. She would have time to unpack all of those thoughts and emotions later. For now, Charlie was her topmost priority.

Their house was secluded. There were no angels or humans nearby. Amenadiel hadn’t liked that at first, but he’d relented. Safe houses were safe houses and everything was already fragile enough with the way everyone had been losing it over Lucifer dying when they’d first gotten here.

Should she run for help?

Did all angels think the way Gabriel did? Would they snatch Charlie away? Would they kill him?

She was pacing and rocking her son, trying to calm both of them down. Eventually, Amenadiel came out of the house. He was a little bit bruised, but he was hauling an unconscious Gabriel in something that looked like a fireman’s carry.

That had to be a good sign, right?

He tossed his brother to the ground and ran towards them.

Linda flinched, backing away.

“Linda, it’s just me.” Amenadeil soothed, hands in the air placating, “It’s just me. You’re okay. Charlie is okay. Everything is okay.”

“No, it’s not!” She almost yelled, “How could you say that?”

“Linda…”

“Where were you?!!”

“Father told me to find Gabriel in order to administer his punishment.” Amenadiel sighed, “I went looking for him and I had no idea that he would even wish Charlie any harm. I swear!”

“Of course you do…”

And then she was crying again. Screw all of this. Would she ever stop crying?

“Linda, please…”

“Get him away from us!” She demanded, “And… and we’re going to Earth. They need us there, Amenadiel, and obviously here is not any safer than LA is.”

“We are.” He nodded, “Gabriel is going to Hell. Literally. Luci will be free. We are going back to LA. Of course we are.”

“Now!”

She would focus. Lucifer didn’t have to go to Hell. That was major. She had to listen, to understand…

Linda couldn’t be bothered by anything that wasn’t the quiet bundle in her arms though.

“His wings finally grew.” Amenadiel cooed, “May I hold him, please?”

“Amenadiel, how could you?” She sobbed, “How many times is he going to be put in danger just because of who he is?”

“Linda…” Amenadiel sighed, closing his eyes, “I need to deliver Gabriel to Hell. I have no idea when Father will convince Luci to return to Earth, but I need to go check on Michael and everyone else. I’m not sure what happened. Father was… vague.”

“You are taking us back to Earth before you do anything.”

“Linda, Father said-”

“I don’t care what He said!”

Amenadiel pursed his lips, frowning.

He brought his hands up in prayer and someone landed next to him. 

Linda recognized the flowing dark hair and the regal features almost instantly. Raphael.

“She has taken an oath to never harm another soul, Linda.” Amenadiel explained, pointing to his sister, “She can fly you back to Earth while I take care of Gabriel and everything else. I can explain it all later. The repercussions of what had taken place are-”

“Shut up.” Linda scoffed, “Just shut up.”

Amenadiel looked at his shoes, properly chastised. Raphael nodded. She wasn’t really that talkative.

“May I please hold Charlie?” Amenadiel repeated, “He is my son too.”

Linda had a million objections to that. At the moment, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to hug Amenadiel or castrate him. There was something in his eyes though…

She sighed, handing Charlie over with trembling hands.

“Thank you.” Amenadiel smiled, tracing their son’s wings with fond eyes. He looked proud. He was angry but he was not afraid.

Why would he be? Unlike her, he understood all of this celestial mess.

Linda closed her eyes, trying her hardest to calm down.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of it though.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“You have to bring Mazikeen back.” Lucifer repeated.

“The demon is dead.” His Father shook his head, “Her soul is gone, Lucifer.”

“And you’re the Almighty.” Lucifer countered, “You have control over everything in the spacetime continuum. Come on, Dad. Don’t lie to me. I hate liars and you know it. Bring her back.”

This was killing his Father, wasn’t it?

Lucifer was asking him to revive a demon and give her a soul. The Old Man shouldn’t have offered to grant him a “wish”. He should have kept on annoying Lucifer into letting go of the whiteness and going back to Earth. If He wanted Lucifer to go back that badly, the He had to pay the price.

“You said anything I want.” Lucifer persisted, “This is what I want, Dad.”

Lucifer didn’t fully understand it. A more selfish part of him was begging him to go back and think of a way that would ensure that the Detective would be by his side for as long as possible.

His own mortality was the reason his Father offered this in the first place. Making the Detective immortal was no longer an option even if he managed to make the spawn immortal too. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to do that to them. His Father had clearly stated that “it was not the time to lift his ban yet” and that “it was all a part of His plan”.

“You’re omniscient.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me that you didn’t see this coming.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” His Father smiled, “All I wanted from this was the chance to talk to you again. You will forever remain my greatest creation, Samael.”

“I’ve already said that my name is Lucifer!”

“Apologies. I did not mean to…” His Father shook his head, smiling again, “You still have a lot to learn. A new journey has just begun for you and it is more beautiful than you could possibly imagine. I am proud of you, Lucifer.”

No.

_He did not just say that._

No!

“What the f-”

But Lucifer was already gone.

His vision faded to black and he felt himself drift away.

The next time he woke up, the world was not an infinite canopy of white anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd bet that Gabriel of all angels would probably end up being "evil" in canon, especially if Michael wasn't completelty bad.
> 
> Next chapter has some happy moments! (I think)
> 
> Have a nice day and remember... WE HAVE THE RELEASE DATE AND A DECKERSTAR KISS!


	13. Coming Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly HAPPY, especially towards the end! We are really close to the happy ending! 2-3 long chapters probably and the plot for this story would be finished.
> 
> Thank you for all of your support! Have a good day/night!

Chloe knew that she was being stupid.

She just had to _touch_ him.

She should stop remembering him and she should… she should try to accept reality. 

She’d said those things a million times in her head. She’d been standing there for who knows how long, trying hard to pretend that she wasn’t crying and slowly losing her mind.

She took a deep breath then another, reaching with trembling fingers to touch his face. Touching Lucifer had always been a favourite hobby of hers.

After he’d returned from Hell that first time, she tried her hardest to convey to him that he wasn’t alone through all their casual touches. When he’d been sick and horrified of anyone but her approaching him, touching him became a must for her more than for him.

This was why her current dilemma was _stupid._

She was stronger than this.

She’d almost done it, when the elevator dinged and someone ran into the apartment. Chloe’s hand flew to her gun, her nerves beyond frayed. She whipped around, gun pointed at… _Dan._

Chloe gasped, returning the gun to its holster. It was empty. The safety was still on. However, she couldn’t help but think of Trixie. If she’d woken up and came here… what if she’d pointed that gun at her daughter?

She needed to calm down. She needed to relax.

“Chloe!” Dan was… _smiling._

If he was going to insult Lucifer, Chloe was going to get her gun out and shoot him. Somehow. She’d find a way to.

“Yes?”

“I have great news!” He told her, “I-I came here as fast as I could… I know that Trixie is here too.”

“Yeah, what happened to you watching her?” Chloe almost growled. Had he watched their daughter, Chloe could have had the chance to talk to her without Trixie finding Maze’s body on the floor like that.

Maybe.

Dan didn’t deserve all the anger burning in her chest towards him, but Chloe was lost.

And angry. Helpless. Grief-stricken. 

“I fell asleep.” He shook his head, grinning sheepishly, “I had the best dream. Well, it was less of a dream and more of a vision and-”

“Lucifer is _dead._ ” Chloe growled, “Maze is _dead._ Trixie saw her body! Trixie, our daughter, cried herself to sleep downstairs! And you… you’re telling me about a _fucking_ dream you had? Are you out of your mind, Dan?!!”

“I know!” He nodded, “I know. About Lucifer, I mean. Not Maze though. Maze is really...? But, but, don’t worry! It’s all resolved. Charlotte said he’s coming back. She said that Lucifer’s Dad, otherwise known as, you know _, God,_ said that he’s bringing Lucifer back because-”

Chloe slapped him.

_Hard._

When she was done, she hit him again. Over and over and over again. She punched at his chest, not caring how her knuckles bruised and split. She must have been quite the sight.

Dan didn’t do anything. 

He steadied her, pinning her arms to her sides and pulling her in for a hug. She didn’t feel trapped in his arms, despite how every cell of her body was screaming at him to let her go.

“How dare you?” She sobbed, her earlier plight for composure forgotten, “How dare you?!! He’s dead, Dan. How could you say that? How could you… Charlotte is dead! Lucifer is dead! Maze… Everyone’s dead, Dan. He’s dead. _He’s dead!_ ”

Dan didn’t say anything, stroking her back. He eased her to the floor gently when her knees buckled, stroking her back when she stopped trying to push him away.

Chloe felt pathetic.

This wasn’t her. For the millionth time, this wasn’t her. Why was she so broken? Why couldn’t she just sweep everything under a metaphorical rug and pretend that everything was okay? Why couldn’t she just… why couldn’t she just…?

“I keep seeing his face.” She sobbed into Dan’s chest, “He was in so much pain, Dan. For _months._ I keep thinking that… that if I didn’t let him go to H-Hell… If I noticed that something was wrong e-earlier when he came back… If I helped, if I fought harder, if… if… I just want him back. Please.”

Was this how Dan felt when Pierce shot Charlotte?

In her mind, Chloe thought that no one could ever understand the pain engulfing her very soul. It spread like wildfire, hunting for every shred of happiness within her and burning it into ashes.

How could she be happy in a world where Lucifer went through all of that?

Everyone lost people they loved. She’d lost people she loved. It wasn’t like this though. Never. This… this was something new. She’d never thought that anything could hurt this bad.

Yet, here she was, breaking.

“You’ll have him back.” Dan whispered, kissing her forehead, “It wasn’t a dream, Chlo’. That’s what I was trying to tell you! Charlotte told me.”

So, Dan had lost it. Great. He’d learned the truth about Lucifer and Michael and _this_ was the result.

Wonderful.

Chloe didn’t have the energy to argue.

She just hugged him back, trying to find something in him. Something that she knew had disappeared alongside the… the corpse on the bed.

No one could comfort her like Lucifer. How could someone comfort her when it came to Lucifer himself?

Some time passed. She eventually got up, crawling on her knees so that she was close enough to Lucifer. She took a deep, fortifying breath before brushing Lucifer’s messy hair away from his eyes.

It was messy and longer than usual. It was curly, matted with blood, sweat, and who-knew-what else. She’d barely touched his skin and here she was, standing on the edge of the knife, knowing that she was going to fall into the grim pit of despair.

It seemed like a one-way road; a one-way road who's ticket was touching Lucifer and making this nightmare real.

She was being stupid.

“Do it again!”

Chloe jumped, turning around and bumping into Michael. He’d pushed Dan away. Dan was currently on the floor, glaring at the archangel as he got up.

“Do it again, Chloe Decker!”

She watched to punch Michael in the face. His existence was annoying her. He looked exactly like Lucifer. It was a messed up thought, but here he was, alive and well and Lucifer… Lucifer…

Michael looked crazed.

“Hey!” She yelled, trying to yank her hand back.

Michael dragged it to Lucifer’s face, pressing it to her boyfriend’s cold cheek. 

“Let go!” Chloe cried out, tugging on her hand fruitlessly, “What the hell is wrong with you? Let go!”

Michael took her other hand, roughly pressing it to Lucifer other cheek, making her shoulder almost pop.

“Michael!”

“Chloe, look!” Dan almost yelled, grinning like a maniac, pointing at the bed, “Look!”

She glared at him too, hating almost everyone in her life at that moment. How dare they? Something in her heart told her to turn though and there she was.

What was she looking at?

The light spread from her fingertips.

It was tantalizingly slow at first, teasing its way across Lucifer’s face. It cut through the darkness of the venom, making the skin glow as though it was made from pure energy. Chloe watched in fascination as it spread bit by bit.

The cold gave away into a pleasant heat. Soon enough, or maybe much, much later, the light began making its way down to Lucifer’s body.

It kept going.

Chloe lost time, staring at the way her touch seemed to ignite Lucifer’s skin. It was like something out of a movie. What was her life?

She was half-convinced that she’d fallen asleep watching one of Trixie’s movies. She’d wake up, finding that she’d accidentally dozed off against Lucifer’s shoulder. Right?

There was no lying though when Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, glowing with increasing intensity. The warm brown that was burned into her mind’s eye was replaced by an almost violent light, but his eyes were open.

Michael was saying something, but Chloe couldn’t be bothered to listen. As a matter of fact, her own tongue was moving, but she had no idea what she was saying either. Her hands burned. It wasn’t a scorching ache or anything, but it _burned._

She blinked and it was gone.

The brightness of the real world was suddenly too much. Chloe’s head hurt. She screwed her eyes shut, wondering if her hands were still on Lucifer’s face. She couldn’t feel them. She couldn’t feel _anything._

She tried to calm down; to fight the ache behind her eyes enough so that she could open them and see for herself. Chloe hated how she was easily giving into the desperate hope within her that was insisting that Lucifer was back.

The light would bring him back.

The light that filled her with more warmth and safety than she could ever remember feeling.

It must have been too much. She was in someone’s arms and someone else was talking to her. With a Herculean effort, Chloe managed to crack her eyes open and look.

Lucifer looked… _better._

His skin was back to normal. He was dirty and bloodied, but he wasn’t dead anymore. Was he? She fought unconsciousness for a moment longer, finding that Lucifer was breathing. It was barely there, but it was enough.

Chloe fell asleep with a smile on her face.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

The next time she woke up, Chloe was oddly relieved.

She stretched and sighed, happy and at peace. When she caught sight of who was lying next to her, the memories came rushing back.

She almost fell off the smaller bed they were on in her haste to reach Lucifer. When her fingers touched his skin and saw the way his chest expanded ever so slowly, Chloe could have sobbed in relief.

This was real.

_This had to be real._

“It _is_ real, mommy!”

She turned around to see her daughter, sitting in Maze’s lap.

“Maze!”

Chloe stared at the demon for a second too long, almost jumping off the bed and towards the armchair the demon was reclining on, holding her daughter and stroking her hair. Chloe enveloped Maze in her arms, almost sobbing into her shoulder. 

Maze was back too!

“Enough with the waterworks, Decker.” Maze groaned, “Honestly, if I knew that coming back from the dead involved so much human snot, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Chloe couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was frustrating and annoying, but it sounded exactly like Maze.

“I’m so sorry, Maze.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Decker.” Maze sighed, patting her back.

Chloe finally moved away, smiling back at her daughter.

She noticed that Maze was perfectly healed and dressed in a new outfit (black, tight, leather pants and a black, tight, leather vest). She looked back to Lucifer, finding that he was clean and shirtless, buried under several blankets. Finally, Chloe looked down on herself, finding that she was only wrapped up in one of Lucifer’s silky robes.

Blushing, Chloe pulled the robe tighter around herself. She wasn’t able to resist a smile at the way it smelled like the man sleeping in the bed next to her (a different bed from the one he’d… been in. They were all on the floor under the penthouse, sleeping in one of the guest rooms available).

“Dressed you myself.” Maze told her, smirking at the way her cheeks heated even more, “You could still use a shower. Trix has been telling me that you and him-” she pointed a finger at Lucifer “ _-finally_ got together, so if you’re ever interested in making it a three-”

“Maze!” Chloe scoffed, almost outraged, “There are children present!”

“I’m not a child, mommy.” Trixie rolled her eyes, “I can understand what Maze is talking about.”

“You go, little human!” Maze grinned, high-fiving Trixie.

Okay, so life was returning back to normal quickly. That was good. Really good.

Chloe scanned the room, finding Michael slumped by Lucifer’s other side. His head was pillowed on his folded arms which were resting on the bed while the archangel himself was huddled a bit awkwardly on the floor. He appeared to be asleep, dead to the world.

“Bird brain there conked out like three hours ago and he still hasn’t moved.” Maze supplied, “Maybe he’d died or something. Can’t be bothered to check, Decker.”

Chloe took in a sharp intake of breath. She didn’t want to hear about anyone dying anytime soon.

“Everyone else?”

“Dan and Ellen are both asleep in guest rooms.” Maze told her, “Azrael left after she was sure Lucifer was okay. Michael and I dragged your asses down here ourselves and we found Trix asleep on the sofa. You've only been asleep for a couple of hours."

“You’re back too.” Chloe began awkwardly, sitting back down on the bed. She inched closer to Lucifer, her hand subconsciously finding its way to his hair like it always did. The motion soothed Chloe. Lucifer’s nose wrinkled for just a second and he leaned into her caress momentarily. After that, he went back to being almost motionless.

“You have your idiot boyfriend to thank for that.” Maze growled.

“Maze!” Trixie scolded, “Lucifer isn’t an idiot! He brought you back!”

Maze glared at Trixie.

“I missed you.” Trixie fumed, “You don’t get to be mad at Lucifer for bringing you back somehow. I wanted you both back and now I have you back and everything should work out. Happy ending. Everyone lives happily forever after.”

“Little human.” Maze growled, hugging Trixie closer. Her tender actions clashed horribly with the storm brewing in her dark eyes, “I have a soul now. I don’t think I like that too much.”

“You already had a soul.” Trixie rolled her eyes, “It just wasn’t… I guess it’s more… literal now.”

“Having a soul sucks!”

“But having you back is worth it!” Trixie’s lips were wobbling and her eyes were oddly shiny. Maze seemed to sense the little girl’s distress, sighing and hugging her. She didn’t continue arguing.

Chloe got up and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, hugging the little girl as well.

Trixie had suffered.

Of course she had. Her two favourite people in the world had died and now they were back and… and…

And what?

Chloe herself hadn’t even processed it yet.

She didn’t _want_ to.

She didn’t want to apply logical thinking to any of the events that had taken place recently. It was partially because this entire celestial mess taught her just how helpless humans appeared to be in the face of what was _more,_ and partially because she didn’t want to find anything that disproved the fact that Lucifer was breathing less than a meter away from her.

Chloe knew that she was potentially setting herself up for an epic failure and an even more epic form of heartbreak, but she couldn’t help it. She was willing to buy into anything that meant that this reality she’d woken up in was _the one._ The _real_ one.

“He made a deal with his Dad.” Maze sighed, “I don’t know all the details. The old bastard is just as talkative as Lucifer makes Him out to be; as in, He barely listens and He barely even talks.”

“You spoke to God?” Chloe gaped, returning to Lucifer’s side.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Maze sulked, her cheek pressed to the top of Trixie’s head.

Chloe nodded, too shocked to even grill the demon for answers.

This was just the correct amount of weird to be normal.

Chloe smiled, turning to press a kiss to Lucifer’s forehead. He didn’t move or react, but Chloe couldn’t care less.

Everything was going to be okay.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer woke up several times in the next several days.

Chloe could hardly believe it. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings per se. As a matter of fact, Lucifer was lost and confused for the minute or so that he managed to stay conscious. Seeing him move and talk and blink was worth it.

“D’ctive!” He grinned, his eyes almost glazed over, “Missed you…”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, smiling and shaking her head.

“I missed you too, Lucifer.” She sighed, “How are you feeling?”

He was already asleep.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Mikey, y-you should leave.”

Chloe had no idea how he could even tell that his brother was around. She was about to interfere when Michael just gave his twin a sad smile, walking over to the bed. He did his fancy, little angel trick and Lucifer fell back asleep, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“It’s not the time yet, Chloe Decker.” Michael told her.

Chloe didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on her boyfriend.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Demons!” Lucifer screamed, bolting up in his bed, throwing his blankets away.

He seemed horrified, scanning his surroundings frantically in search of an enemy only he could see. Lucifer was shivering. His breaths were coming in short, pained gasps and his skin had paled to a near-luminiscient degree.

Chloe was the only one in the room. It was almost two in the morning. She hadn’t been able to sleep. Trixie was at Dan’s. She’d been visiting Lucifer every day and dropping by to see Maze (who refused to leave the penthouse until she talked with Lucifer).

“Lucifer, babe, calm down.”

She’d done this several times in the past.

Slowly, Chloe approached him, narrating her events as calmly and clearly as she could. Lucifer didn’t seem to hear her, still searching for the enemy that haunted his sleep.

“Lucifer, you’re home. You’re safe.” She soothed him, climbing on the bed, her heart breaking at the way he flinched, “You know that. It’s me. Just me. Chloe. The Detective, remember? I love you, Lucifer. Come back to me. You’re safe.”

She’d said those things a hundred times too before. Over and over again, in different orders but with the same bottom line. She meant every word despite how they tasted like ash in her mouth and how they felt like echoes of unknown origin, reverberating in her skull when her mouth inevitably became a microphone for them and nothing more.

She’d do anything to erase his pain. Anything.

Eventually, Lucifer found a safe haven in her arms. He was still trembling and lost, seemingly not fully aware of where he was or who she was. Chloe would take that though, considering the fact that he was calming down.

Was this the effect her touch still had on him?

His “resurrection” of sorts had been at the hands of his father of course, but wasn’t it strange that it was Chloe’s hands that brought him back? Over the past few days, she’d stared at them for hours on end, remembering the heat and the light and the power she’d wielded.

“You’re okay.” She whispered, “You’re okay.”

She kissed her forehead, stroking his back. Lucifer huddled closer to her, flinching occasionally. In the back of her mind, Chloe found the time to be thankful for the unblemished, smooth skin of his back.

Her devil was mostly healed physically, no wounds and no scars to be seen (not even wing scars). He was still a bit thinner than usual, but he was definitely a hundred times healthier than he’d been before. Chloe wished that she could find a way to fix him on the inside like he appeared to be fixed on the outside.

She coaxed him back into lying down, thankful that Michael hadn’t shown up. He’d been hovering by Lucifer’s side, his face an unreadable mask more often than not. Maze was nowhere to be seen either.

“S-stay.”

She allowed him to pull her down next to him, relaxing as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his tear-streaked face into her shoulder.

Chloe couldn’t tell if Lucifer’s uncertainty was due to the fact that he still seemed half-asleep or the fact that he was… Well, _Lucifer._

How many times had he been abandoned by those who were supposed to care for him?

“Of course I’ll stay, you silly devil.” She laughed, hating how choked it sounded. Chloe pressed a kiss to his hair, wrapping her arms around him in return. “I’m never leaving your side. Ever.”

Lucifer didn’t respond. Chloe thought that he’d just fallen asleep again. Michael kept insisting that Lucifer needed more time to rest and heal after all.

Chloe was lost in thought when it happened.

A moment she was softly stroking the hair behind Lucifer’s ear and counting his soft breaths and the next she was enveloped in a one-of-a-kind warm embrace.

Her throat hurt as she stared at the canvas of pure white among them. It was whiteness so bright that it would’ve put the purest snow on top of the highest mountain on the planet to shame. How could you even compare anything to the purest form of divinity?

She’d called those wings at the auction years ago gorgeous.

The might have as well been insect wings in comparison to these.

Her finger stroked the soft feathers, her eyes full of wonder. Lucifer sighed in bliss, snuggling deeper into her chest. Did the wings have the same calming effect on him that they had on her?

Chloe had no idea. Maybe having them out was a relief of its own.

Wings were another huge question mark for her. She’d only seen these on the night he’d-

Chloe gasped, the onslaught of memories almost painful to her. Lucifer’s wings tightened around them, making her relax inevitably.

Nothing could be wrong when she was cocooned in these. Nothing at all.

Chloe fell asleep, more at peace than she’d been for a long, long time.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

Waking up was _weird._

It was less about _how_ he woke up and more about the fact that _he woke up._

Nothing hurt. Nothing felt wrong. He just had the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to wake up or maybe that he didn’t quite understand why he was waking up.

There was no sleeping when he’d been tortured in Hell.

Despite how he slept a lot before his latest trip to the underworld, he’d barely remembered sleeping much less waking up. Everything had hurt back then and he was just so lost and confused.

Then there was all the whiteness and there was no sleep there because there was no time. There was only wandering around, “waiting” for Dad to have another talk with Him and then another and then another.

Dad never shuts up.

He just talks and talks and talks and _what does He even want?_

Oh, wait.

He’d wanted Lucifer to come back and that was why waking up was weird because he’d been dead.

“Detective?”

His eyes hadn’t even adjusted to the light in wherever he was, but the word felt right on his tongue. The sound echoed in his head, making him wonder if he’d spoken aloud at all. Why was he so bloody cold?

Hands were stroking his cheeks and someone draped something over his shoulders. Lucifer sighed in bliss, pulling the warm, soft thing tighter around himself.

“Lucifer?” A voice asked in the void of his thoughts, “Lucifer, can you hear me?”

It took a lot of effort, but Lucifer blinked. He blinked and suddenly he could see. His ears popped and he could hear. The cotton in his head seemed to disappear and he was…

He was _happy._

A silly smile tugged at his lips and Lucifer let it, feeling it widen when his eyes focused on her.

“Detective!”

He was suddenly moving, reacting, following something deep within his soul. His lips were on hers and she was kissing him back and if Lucifer had ever forgotten what Heaven had felt like it must have been this or maybe-

Woah, he needed to slow down. His thoughts were too fast.

That didn’t seem to be a problem. The moment she deepened their kiss, Lucifer could only focus on that and that alone.

When they finally broke away, his face hurt from how wide his smile was. She was smiling at him, her eyes shiny and her lips kiss-swollen and delicious.

Lucifer wanted to kiss her for all of eternity.

“Lucifer.” She whispered, smiling, disbelief written in every little move she made.

She flung herself at him and Lucifer held her. He realized that his wings were out and he wrapped her up in those as well. Was she crying?

Faintly, Lucifer realized that he should probably be concerned about the fact that he had wings again. It seemed stupid though when the Detective was this close to him.

He couldn’t even articulate how much he missed her.

“Detective?”

“I love you.” She grinned, “So, so much.”

Her eyes were fixed on his and she was smiling despite the thin tears cascading down her cheeks. Her arms were around his neck and her fingers were playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“I love you too, Detective.”

She hugged him again and she kissed him.

Lucifer could forgot every single objection he’d had to coming back when she treated him like that.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Lucifer!” Chloe admonished, “Lucifer, slow down!”

He basically ran out of the room and to the main living area, too fast for her to follow. He seemed to be buzzing with energy, an almost maniac aura to him. It contrasted sharply with how tired and confused he’d been every time he woke up in the past several days and how sick and broken he’d been before that.

Chloe wasn’t complaining.

She was smiling in fact, her heart swollen with the joy of having her dumbass partner back.

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer yelped, almost bolting back in the opposite direction.

She watched in amusement as her daughter basically glued herself to him, her grip so strong that Chloe feared for him.

“Spawn.” Lucifer greeted. Trixie had his arms pinned to his sides with the strength of her hug, so he couldn’t even pry her off him or pat her head to get her to relinquish her hold on him any sooner.

Lucifer just stood there anxiously, paling when he saw that Trixie was crying.

Chloe was about to comfort her, knowing that Lucifer was… not the best when it came to this sort of thing.

He surprised her though when he almost dropped to her knees, tilting Trixie’s chin to inspect her for something only he could see. Trixie let go of him.

“If you say that you don’t know why I’m crying, Lucifer, or something like that, I’m hitting you as hard as Maze taught me to and then some more.”

The threat was a bit hilarious coming from a kid whose throat seemed to be clogged up in tears. Lucifer seemed to take it seriously, nodding.

“Duly noted, urchin.”

Trixie clung to his neck this time, sobbing into his shoulder. It didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon and Trixie didn't seem like she was going to let go of him either.

Chloe couldn’t blame her.

She was shocked when Lucifer picked the little girl up though and headed to the couch. Trixie seemed to be content, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

Chloe’s heart was melting at the sight and her eyes were burning for the trillionth time that week. That lasted for just a moment longer though because Lucifer tossed Trixie onto the couch and paused, gauging her reaction.

Chloe held her breath, wondering what would happen.

Trixie burst into laughter, immediately getting up and glaring at him through her tears.

“You ass!”

“Language!” Chloe reprimanded. The two of them turned to her with an identical expression screaming “seriously?!!” at her. She burst into laughter, feeling so light that she feared she’d float into eventual nothingness and never come back.

Lucifer plopped down on the couch, his bare feet resting on the coffee table. The floor had a design similar to the penthouse in structure at least. Lucifer groaned when Trixie lifted his arm and cuddled underneath it.

“Urchin!” He whined.

“Shut up.” Trixie commanded, “I get to do this for a few days at least.”

Chloe couldn’t agree more.

She made her way to the couch, settling on Lucifer’s other side.

Their little family was finally back together.


	14. The Grey

“Darling, I’m hungry!” Lucifer exclaimed, face lighting up in a radiant smile.

The Detective smiled back at him, handing him her phone. It was an impressive feat. He was _hungry_ and he felt that he _could_ eat.

No nausea. No pain.

Lucifer stared at the offered phone, suddenly terrified.

He remembered what it had been like before he... He remembered what it had been like in the Pit.

He figured that he must have lost some time, just staring like an idiot. Lucifer felt like he should find somewhere to hide. He was back. He was healed. Nothing was wrong with him anymore.

Why was the idea of eating horrifying him this much then?

“You could try something small first.” The Detective suggested softly, tilting his chin up.

Lucifer looked at the proffered glass of amber liquid in her hand, feeling warmth and serenity taking over the anxiety in his mind.

“Now, personally, I’d vote for something like water, but you are… _you._ ” She laughed.

Lucifer laughed along. The spawn was staring at them both curiously. She was still clinging to his arm, her tiny body cuddled into his side.

Lucifer didn’t hate it.

He begged his arm to move, but it won’t listen. His mouth was dry and his throat was aching. His stomach rumbled. Lucifer had no idea what he was even feeling.

The Detective, eyes sympathetic, seemed to understand.

“Tell me to stop at any minute.” She cautioned, raising the glass to his lips, “Unless, of course, you don’t want to try. That’s fine by the way, Lucifer. Take your time, babe.”

Of course she’d say that.

Of course her eyes would shine with the purest forms of love.

Lucifer wanted to cry as he gazed into the blue depths that seemed to hold nothing but affection and patience.

He wasn’t worthy.

“Lucifer?”

“I-I would like to try.” He stammered, his eyes falling to his motionless arm.

Bloody traitorous limb.

The Detective stroked the side of his cheek with nimble fingers, raising the glass to his lips. It shouldn’t have been something major or remarkable, but it might have as well been one of the most important moments of his life.

The Detective sensed it. She was slow and patient. A part of him wanted to smack the glass out of her hands and run, reminding her that he wasn’t worthy of being treated like this.

It was over sooner than he realized.

Somewhere along the way, his eyes had closed. Lucifer felt the expensive liquid pour into his mouth, slow and calm. He could almost hear the Detective’s anticipation.

He gulped, shuddering, waiting.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s eyes snapped open and he laughed.

He snatched the glass out of the Detective’s hand, gulping its contents in one go before racing towards the few bottles on the table for a refill. 

“Hey!” The spawn objected.

He could _eat! Drink._ He could…

“This is monumental!” Lucifer grinned, searching through the few available options.

This place hardly had any drinks.

Lucifer wanted to go up to his Penthouse, but he knew what it would look like. He highly doubted that any of his bottles had survived.

“Food.” He nodded somberly, grabbing the phone again, “Pizza? I want pizza!”

“Anything you want, babe.” 

She was grinning at him softly, looking at him like he was something precious. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and another one to his lips before settling down next to him. The urchin immediately latched to his arm again as well, pressing her face into his side.

“I could eat pizza too!” She informed him, “Chocolate cake for desert?”

“And ice cream.” Lucifer mused, “Milkshakes?”

“Yes!”

The Detective didn’t even comment, too busy watching them.

He called a few places that would deliver especially for him, asking them to be careful to deliver his orders to the floor under the Penthouse.

“Ella and Dan will be here shortly.” The Detective nodded, “Michael and Maze are somewhere around here too. Good thinking ordering food for everyone.”

“For everyone?” He gasped dramatically, eyes wide, “Detective, that food is _mine!_ You and the spawn’s too, but the rest is mine.”

She laughed at that. Lucifer didn’t want to talk about Michael.

Ella and Daniel… _Maze._ Why was his heart sinking while he thought about seeing them? He just wanted to be around the Detective and the urchin.

Everyone else needed to stay away.

“I missed you.” The urchin told him, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Er…” Lucifer cleared his throat, “I missed you as well, urchin.”

He’d seen her die more times than he could count.

She’d crossed his mind so many times when he’d been stuck in the never-ending whiteness.

How had this tiny creature found a space in his heart?

“Thanks for bringing Maze back.” She hugged him a little tighter, her voice slightly wobbly, “And for coming back. You’re the _best._ ”

Lucifer nodded at that, patting her head.

His eyes kept straying to the corridor at the end of the room, waiting anxiously. The Detective had said that both of Michael and Mazikeen were here.

Why hadn’t they shown up yet?

He chatted with his little family, feeling oddly happy. The food arrived.

The urchin stared at the huge stack of pizza boxes in awe. Their deserts had arrived first, but the Detective had insisted that they should eat real food.

He grabbed an entire box of extra large pizza, placing it on his lap and eagerly digging in.

The spawn stole a piece. She was still glued to his side!

“Hey!”

“We can share.” She informed him, blowing on her slice, “It’s not like you’re gonna eat all of this. Besides, you got enough boxes for a pizza party, Lucifer!”

Lucifer glared at her, biting into his pizza and almost moaning at the taste.

Food was _good._ He’d missed food.

Food was _awesome._

The Detective was still looking at him tenderly. 

He must have been on his fifth slice of pizza, listening to the Detective's warnings about throwing up, when a knife whizzed above his head.

“Mazikeen!”

He knew that she would never hurt the Detective or the spawn, but something within him didn’t seem to understand that. Lucifer’s eyes flashed red.

“We need to talk.” She growled.

Lucifer has been dreading this.

“Talk then.” He shrugged, bringing the pizza to his mouth, “No one’s stopping you, Mazikeen.”

She gave him an incredulous look, marching towards the couch with purpose.

Lucifer tensed. He didn’t say anything, preferring to focus on his pizza. Was the spawn talking?

In the blink of an eye, he was being hosted to his feet by two fistfuls of his robe. The pizza box fell to the ground. Blood roared in Lucifer’s ears and his heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest.

His mind howled.

Lucifer's hand was gripping her forearm. His body moved and Mazikeen was on her knees, groaning and trying to get out of his grip.

Of course she did. She was Maze.

She kicked him in the shin and he barely even registered it. But something happened…

Something happened, but Lucifer didn’t know what it was!

His mind was somewhere else, thinking about fire and brimstone and _her._

He was the one kneeling and Mazikeen’s legs were wrapped around his neck. Something told him that it wasn’t even in a fun way. Should he say that? He should probably say that. It was such a _Lucifer_ thing to say, right?

The world blurred and blackened. He couldn’t breathe. Had he stopped moving?

_Why was he so pathetic?_

He gasped and he could see again. Mazikeen was a few feet away from him, being scolded by the urchin. He couldn’t hear what they were saying.

The Detective was rubbing his neck and back, patting his cheek gently, trying to get him to sit up. Her lips were moving and her eyes were pleading with him.

What did she want?

She could ask for the universe and he’d give it to her without a second thought.

“Anything for you, Detective.” He smiled.

Eventually, he found himself sitting on the couch again. The urchin gave him a new slice of pizza. He nibbled on it, wondering what had happened.

“Lucifer?”

He turned his head towards the voice, blinking. The Detective was running her hand softly through his curls. Her other hand was on his knee and her eyes were fixed on him, concern practically radiating from them.

He’d upset her.

“Sorry.” He gulped, “I…”

He what?

There was nothing to say.

He was okay. He was _okay._

“It’s alright.” She soothed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You’re okay. You’re safe, Lucifer.”

He had no idea why she was saying those things to him, but Lucifer didn’t mind. They calmed him down. He leaned into her side and they adjusted the way they were sitting into something that was more comfortable for both of them.

“Maze wants to say she’s sorry.” The urchin informed him.

Mazikeen was trailing behind the urchin, arms crossed, and a snarl on her lips.

The Detective was glaring at her.

Oh. The Detective had been yelling at her, back when the world was all black and then when he was on the ground.

“Why did you do it?” Maze asked, forgoing the apology.

Lucifer smiled. Mazikeen never apologized. Some things never changed. He needed that kind of stability at the moment.

“To spite Dear Old Dad.” Lucifer grinned, taking another bite of his food. His hand was resting on the Detective’s shoulder. He should probably look at Maze, but eye contact was so hard for some reason.

“That’s it?”

“Uh huh.” Lucifer nodded, taking another bite, “We made a deal. Couldn’t make myself mortal though and I figured that making the Detective and the urchin immortal would be wrong. So I thought incredibly hard about it and… what better solution was there?”

The Detective gasped next to him. Lucifer pressed a kiss to the side of her head, faintly registering that the two of them were going to have a long talk at some point. The spawn was watching the proceedings with wide eyes.

Maze scoffed, studying him carefully.

“What if I didn’t want to come back?” She asked.

“We _need_ you.” The urchin sighed, tugging at Maze’s hand, “We really do. I know that you and Lucifer have this weird allergy to emotional stuff or something, but that’s the truth, Maze! Please don’t be mad at Lucifer. Don’t hurt him either.” The little girl pleaded, “Everything has been so messed up and we finally have the chance to get some peace! That wouldn’t be true if you weren’t around and you know it. So, shut up. Stop trying to act like you hate Lucifer. He’s dumb sometimes, but I think that he did the right thing.”

Wow.

Mazikeen laughed, rolling her eyes. “Well said, Little Human.”

She allowed Beatrice to tug her towards the couch. Beatrice sat as close as possible to his side and the demon sat down next to her. Lucifer handed them pizza wordlessly, sighing at the amazing way the Detective was massaging his scalp. 

“You are your mother’s daughter.” He told the little girl, smiling at her reaction.

They settled down to eat in peace after that.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer didn’t want to see anybody other than the Detective and the spawn.

Miss Lopez and Daniel arrived. He found himself feeling sleepy and antsy, yearning for a place to hide or to simply get away.

“Lucifer!” Miss Lopez wrapped her arms around him, almost half on top of him, “I missed you so much, buddy! Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? Never!”

She’d been the first to arrive.

Lucifer had been trying to assure the Detective that he wouldn’t throw up if he ate more chocolate cake. The forensic scientist had basically ran into the room, her eyes finding him in an instance.

“I will endeavor to not… die in the future, Miss Lopez.” He promised, fighting the urge to whimper. He just wanted her to get away. She should _move away!_ No one other than the Detective and the spawn was allowed to touch him.

_Please. Please. Please._

He felt like he was going to explode.

Lucifer couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He just wanted Miss Lopez away from him. He could hear her talking, but if she didn’t leave him alone, he was sure that his traitorous arms would throw her away or something.

“Ella, I think that’s enough hugging for today.”

_The Detective!_

She guided the other woman away from him, kneeling by his side and stroking the side of his face again.

“Okay?” She asked, worried.

Lucifer nodded dumbly. Of course he was okay. There was _nothing_ to worry about. He was perfectly fine.

Miss Lopez apologized, sitting down next to him. Everyone was talking. Lucifer could hardly listen. Even when he wanted to talk, his lips wouldn’t move.

But he was okay.

Of course he was.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

Lucifer was not okay.

He’d basically had a meltdown during the whole fiasco with Maze.

He’d gone from happy and earnest to nervous and closed off the moment a person who wasn’t her or Trixie entered the room. He kept casting the corridor nervous glances, biting at his lip with enough force to draw blood.

When Ella had showed up, Lucifer looked like he was going to fling her to the other side of the room and start running.

He wasn’t listening. Ella kept trying to get his attention, but he was just staring off into space or focusing on random objects.

He’d listen to her. Always. He’d even listen to Trixie more often than not.

Chloe knew that he wouldn’t be magically healed. She was a cop. She knew what trauma looked like. She’d been there and she’d seen.

The worst part was that she hadn’t even seen the tip of the iceberg.

She was glad to have him back, but she was worried. She’d be there to help him through anything of course, but she just wished that he could be pain-free and happy for more than a few minutes at a time.

Personally, Chloe wanted to take him and Trixie back home. She wanted to lock the door and hide him away, somewhere no one could ever hurt him again.

She wanted to see him smile and laugh and ramble. She wanted him to be comfortable. She knew that he couldn’t limit his world to her and her daughter, but seeing his huge, terrified eyes and the way he’d flinch every time someone approached him…

Ella was telling everyone about what had been going on at the precinct for the past few days when Dan showed up. Chloe got up, rubbing Lucifer’s shoulder as she moved away. His heartbroken eyes and the incredibly low whimper that escaped his lips _hurt._

“Dan, hey.” 

“Hi, Chlo’!”

Dan had been happy.

Ever since his apparent “talk” with Charlotte… Something had changed.

“Dan, take it easy on him please.” Chloe pleaded, casting her tense boyfriend a look, “None of the usual shit you pull. He’s been through more than enough and-”

“Okay, Chloe.” Dan nodded, moving towards the group.

“Okay?” She questioned, eyes narrowed, gripping his upper arm.

“Yeah.” Dan nodded, not a care in the world, “Okay.”

She followed him anxiously, feeling a bit ridiculous about how she was acting.

Despite how often Lucifer acted like a child, he wasn’t one and he probably didn’t need her treating him like this.

“Hey, man.” Dan grinned, waving, before plopping down on an armchair.

Lucifer regarded her ex-husband with the most confused eyes she’d ever seen on anyone, seemingly afraid of whatever was coming next.

How could anyone possibly be mean to him when he looked like that?

His body was healed, but it was clear that his mind and psyche weren’t.

The conversation continued.

She reclaimed her seat next to Lucifer, sighing at how he instantly seemed to relax. He even talked, his voice loud and cheery.

That was bad.

She couldn’t have him depending on her like that. Chloe was intent on spending eternity by his side, but codependency was not the solution for his issues.

They had time though.

At some point, Trixie managed to get him to lie down.

Chloe wasn’t sure how, but as she watched her little monkey instructing the devil, she felt proud. The girl told him to lie down with his head on her mother’s lap, settling down next to him in a way.

None of the occupants of the room seemed to mind.

She stroked his face and played with his hair, talking to everyone as if she wasn’t worried about her exhausted boyfriend who seemed to be in a daze.

Lucifer relaxed even more, mumbling something she couldn’t understand.

He stared at the ceiling, eyes far away, as the world went on around him.

Chloe worried.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Ella and Dan eventually left. They seemed to be reluctant when it came to leaving Lucifer. Both of them stared at his slumbering form anxiously, almost afraid that he was going to vanish into thin air.

Chloe understood their concern.

Dan tried to get Trixie to go with him, but she refused, clinging onto Lucifer.

Chloe couldn’t blame her either.

Lucifer was sleeping right there in the middle of the room. For someone who’d died and come back to life very recently and who had suffered literal Hell and its repercussions before that, day time naps didn’t seem like an issue to be concerned about.

However, he was _Lucifer Morningstar._

The Lucifer she knew would be jumping around, boisterously talking and laughing and brushing off everyone’s concern. He’d been different of course before his latest trip to Hell and then to wherever his Father brought him back from, but Chloe found herself lost.

She had no idea what their normal, which had been far from “normal” to begin with, was anymore. 

As she stared at the slumbering devil in her lap, Chloe found that she couldn’t care less.

“So he’s gonna be all sleepy and mushy?” Trixie wondered, “Like he was before he…”

“I guess so.” Chloe nodded, trying to give her daughter a reassuring smile, “Even the Devil needs some time to heal.”

“And we’ll help him.” Trixie declared, “Right?”

“Of course we will.”

“Good. That’s what family is for.” Trixie announced, sitting down cross legged on the floor, her hands resting on the side of Lucifer’s chest with her head pillowed on them. Lucifer didn’t even stir. “I don’t think that Lucifer knows that yet though, but that’s okay too.”

Her little girl had grown up a long time ago, hadn’t she?

Chloe wished that she could focus on the smudge of chocolate on the corner of Trixie’s mouth instead of the intensity of the little girl’s gaze and the wisdom behind her words.

“I talked to Maze.” Trixie continued, “She promised that she wouldn’t be mean to Lucifer anymore. She said that she’s gonna go blow off some steam.”

Good.

Chloe didn’t think that she was physically capable of seeing someone harm Lucifer at the moment. Not that it was okay to harm him at other times, but a part of her wanted to shoot anyone with any ill intentions towards him.

She’d always thought that he was ridiculous; punching anyone who insulted her, beating up any suspect who hurt her, and going as far as to traumatize anyone who dared to lay a finger on her.

Lucifer would go through anything so that he wouldn’t have to see her cry.

He loved her and she loved him, but she was slowly realizing the intensity of such emotions and their full potential.

She’d always known that what she felt for her weird partner was incredibly different from what she felt for anyone else before him, but the sheer power of it was scaring her at times.

Trixie poked his cheek, giggling when he huffed and turned his head so that his nose was pressed to Chloe’s stomach.

“He’s still our Lucifer.” Trixie whispered, “He’s different, but he’s still himself, right?”

“Still our Lucifer.” Chloe confirmed, tracing the arch of his brow with her finger.

“I don’t think I belong to anyone, but if I do, it would be to the both of you.” Lucifer whispered, eyes still closed.

“Were you pretending to be asleep?” Chloe scolded, trying to conceal the hint of worry in her voice.

If he’d been faking sleep… That was worse than being asleep, wasn’t it?

“Not the entire time.” Lucifer confessed, slightly sheepish, “I was oddly tired.”

“There’s nothing odd about it.” Trixie rolled her eyes, “You died. Your body needs time to heal!”

“Aren’t you still the little doctor?” Lucifer sighed, amused.

“And you’re still a wussy.”

Lucifer opened his eyes at that, bursting into laughter.

Trixie looked proud.

“He _is_ a wussy.”

“And you’re still a stalker.” Lucifer retorted. His eyes snapped shut again, and his body tensed.

Chloe regarded Michael who was standing a few feet away, refreshed and showered. He was back to looking like an angel, no cut or bruise in sight. It was a bit strange to see. The sight of him, bruised and bloodied with a never-ending supply of tears streaming down his cheeks was basically burned into Chloe’s mind. How many creatures had seen the archangel in that state?

He was dressed in Lucifer's clothes, considering the fact that his own had been torn and bloodied beyond repair. It was strange to see as well. Michael didn't look as comfortable in the simple, yet expensive, black suit as Lucifer usually did though.

“I am going to return home.” Michael announced. He sounded… awkward.

After everything that the twins had been through, they couldn't even acknowledge any of it.

Chloe felt bad for both of them.

Lucifer just nodded, not even looking at his brother.

Michael hesitated for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something.

“You can thank him.” Trixie told Lucifer, poking him in the side and gesturing towards Michael, “He helped.”

Lucifer seemed to be caught off guard by the demand. He even sat up, mouth agape, looking at Trixie.

“That is fine, Miss Trixie.” Michael smiled.

He _smiled._

_Michael smiled._

Lucifer turned to his brother. Michael waited patiently. Chloe could tell that he was nervous. She wondered if assessing the emotions of emotionally-stunted archangels was among her special skills.

“Can we talk?” Lucifer requested, “Later. Just…”

Michael nodded.

“So you actually get out of the Silver City?” Lucifer mused, "Again? My, my, Michael..."

“How are you going to go to the Silver City?” Chloe wondered, “I thought you and Azrael…”

She trailed off at the warning glance Michael gave her.

“What happened with you and Azrael?” Lucifer demanded looking between her and his brother.

“They’re traitors now.” Trixie piped up, “Your Dad said that anyone who helps you is gonna get banished too.”

“Trixie!”

“Maze and I gossip.” Trixie shrugged, unapologetic. 

“What?” Lucifer gulped.

Michael looked beyond uncomfortable. She studied her boyfriend, noting how his breathing was quickening. Lucifer looked conflicted, unsure of how to react.

Knowing him and everything that the two brothers have been through, Chloe had to act fast.

“Lucifer?” She wondered, sitting next to him and rubbing his arm soothingly.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t know how to act.

Chloe was becoming increasingly certain that constant confusion was going to accompany dealing with celestials. It wasn’t something that you just got used to. While it was getting easier with time, she was finding it hard to accept.

“I’m okay, Detective.”

It sounded hollow. Lucifer was smiling, his eyes fixed on his brother, unseeing and haunted.

“Lucifer?” Trixie pipped up.

Lucifer turned to her, chewing on his lip.

“Lucifer?” Trixie demanded innocently.

Lucifer seemed to blink, snapping out of his daze and focusing on the little girl.

“So Daddy and I had a talk about pillow forts and…”

Chloe watched in amazement as Lucifer listened, essentially transferring his focus to Trixie’s mundane ramble. He seemed to decide that ignoring his twin was the best current course of action.

Chloe couldn’t blame him.

She was anxiously awaiting Linda’s return, dreading the agonizing therapy sessions awaiting her partner almost as much as she was aware of their importance.

Michael nodded, almost to himself, turning to fly away.

Chloe couldn’t let him.

After checking that Lucifer was still oddly, yet safely, focused on Trixie, she got up and headed towards Michael. Chloe dragged him by the elbow to the balcony, intent on talking to him.

“What do you want from me?” He frowned.

“Is it safe?” She demanded, closing the door behind her.

“Is what safe?”

“Going back to Heaven. Talking to your Father. _God._ ”

Would that ever stop feeling weird?

“What do you mean?”

“The last time He got really angry at someone and banished them…” Her eyes drifted to Lucifer, currently being wacked in the face with a pillow by Trixie.

She’d seen his scars. She’d heard him scream at night. She’d wiped away his tears and she’d listened to “Father” being mentioned hundreds of times in the past few years.

“That wasn’t the last time Father banished someone.” Michael informed her, “It was certainly the most… memorable one though.”

“Memorable.” Chloe snorted.

“Why do you care?”

“Look, I’m still not your biggest fan or anything,” She sighed, feeling a bit horrible when he seemed to flinch slightly at her words, “but you helped save him.” She nodded at her boyfriend, still engrossed in a pillow fight, “You’re not a complete asshole.”

“Thank you.” His brow was furrowed and he seemed confused, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he was being insulted or complimented.

She could get used to him.

He was annoying, but he wasn’t as annoying as Lucifer was. He was quieter, obviously the less sociable out of the two twins. He was only just starting to actually show the slightest bit of reactions around her too. Chloe didn’t know if it was because the two of them went through losing Lucifer together, but she felt closer to him somehow.

The thought of him _falling_ sent chills down her spine.

The thought of anyone _falling_ in that sense or anyone suffering through that kind of thing from their father didn’t sit well with her, but she was finding it hard to just let Michael go.

“I will be fine.” He smiled, patting her shoulder.

His wings were out in the next second. They were almost identical to Lucifer's, but black and majestic in their own way. She wondered if their wings would ever stop taking her breath away.

He was giving her such an intense look. Chloe could somehow tell that he was afraid as well.

“My place is in the Silver City.” He told her, preparing to fly away, “I have no other home.”

“You can though.” Chloe almost pleaded, her eyes darting to Lucifer for the millionth time.

Michael watched his brother and her daughter play, his smile growing, developing into a soft grin that reminded her of Lucifer.

“I am happy for him.” Michael continued, “Sammy deserves a home.”

“And you don’t?”

He didn’t answer that. His smile dimmed and his wings fluttered.

For the second time in the past few months, Chloe cried as an angel flew off the balcony of the Penthouse.

This wasn’t like Lucifer leaving though.

Michael will be fine.

Chloe headed back inside, deciding to focus on the two people she loved the most for as long as she could. If the past months have taught her anything, it was that she shouldn’t underestimate the importance of spending time with them, simply because she could never know when that opportunity wouldn’t be available for her anymore.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

The next few days passed by in a blur.

Chloe, Lucifer, and Trixie relocated to her house. Lucifer called in a few favors to get repairs started on his Penthouse. He didn't seem to be in a rush to get back there though, content with being around her and her daughter.

Lucifer seemed fine, grinning and laughing his way through almost everything.

Chloe didn’t want to make the same mistake of assuming that he was okay though. The thought of being blind to his suffering again was a constant source of fear and anxiety for her.

She was trying to find a healthy balance between enjoying what they had and looking out for signs of Lucifer deteriorating more.

It wasn’t like Lucifer’s mental health was suddenly exceptional, but it wasn’t like he had turned into a sharing person either.

How he could rant for three hours about a papercut and mention nothing at all about a bullet wound was just something that she was almost used to.

Chloe was no stranger to how the monsters snuck up on you when you least expected it. She’d been lucky enough to never experience something like Lucifer had, but still…

The more she thought about it, the more a lifetime as long as his seemed like a source of never-ending pain.

More misery, loss, and agony…

She needed to find a way to make him understand how proud she was of him for not somehow granting her or her and her daughter immortality without talking to them about it first.

Lucifer was incredibly tight-lipped about it all though. He wanted to go on with life as if everything was perfect. He wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong and that the little time she took off work to simply spend some time with him and Trixie was going to extend indefinitely into an infinity of happy memories and domestic bliss.

However, Lucifer was quickly learning that that was impossible.

It had happened during their second night at the house, when he’d woken up from another nightmare.

This one seemed more gruesome, managing to trap him in it even after he seemed to be mostly awake.

Chloe had watched in horror, almost helpless as he begged for his life, believing that he was in Hell.

Some of it was in a language she didn’t understand, but it wasn’t like fear and panic didn’t exceed any barriers languages could ever set.

She found a darker part of her wishing that Lilith was still alive, if only for that bitch to get what she deserved for doing this to him.

At some point he screamed and switched to English.

“Please, not the Detective… Not the urchin! They d-didn’t do anything! Please!” He was rocking back and forth, staring straight ahead at the darkness, seeing who-knows-what trapped somewhere between dream and reality, “I did what you said! S-stop! They don't deserve this! Enough!”

She’d never thought that she’d hear Lucifer Morningstar beg, but here she was.

“Lucifer, please…” She tried to keep her voice calm and steady, failing, “Calm down. You’re safe. You’re okay. They’re gone, Lucifer. You’re never going back there.”

It seemed to last for eons. Eventually, he seemed to hear her. Lucifer blinked, his eyes settling on her. He gasped and almost tackled her, hugging her close to him and sobbing into his shoulder.

They must have stayed like that for an hour.

She was crying too.

She held him silently, occasionally muttering a few soothing words of her choice or pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He was half on top of her. His face was buried in her shoulder again and his arms were sealed around her in a desperate hold.

What had he seen?

What had he been through?

Chloe knew that she would never understand. She wished that she could take his pain away. It was ridiculous, but he seemed to be capable of soothing her with a few choice words and a small smile. Once they stopped running, he seemed to be as good as comforting her as he was at annoying her.

Why couldn’t she do the same to him?

“It’s not s-supposed to… to be like this.” He gasped, whispering the words into the darkness around them.

“It’s okay.” She whispered back.

“It’s not!”

Well, of course not.

He got up, shakily pulling himself into a seated position and wrapping his arms around himself as if that could stop the shivers coursing through his body.

As she stared at his face in the dim light, Chloe thought that she might spiral and give in into maddening sadness without a chance of ever coming back.

She wished that she would never see anything on his face except his annoying self-satisfied smirk and his even more annoying shit-eating grin.

She loved his genuine smiles and the adorable confusion that often marred his features. He had such a wide array of expressions…

This?

Chloe had never known that despair could take a hold of someone as well as it did until she saw how it was twisting his features as he struggled to breathe and talk.

His eyes were glistening with tears, tear tracks almost shining like beams of ethereal light as they coursed down his pale, hollow cheeks. His hair was a mess. His lips were trembling, almost as if they could capture words that could articulate what was going on deep within his soul just then if she could only wait for them.

And Chloe would’ve waited.

She would’ve waited for an eternity if she could, if it meant that she would understand, if it could have helped him.

“It’s not supposed to be like this.” He gasped again, “H-He healed me. The l-l-lying bastard! He healed me! Why… why am I… Chloe… Help…”

It was the open pleading in his voice that sent her to his arms. She held him against her, feeling his shivers rattle her own bones. A coldness that had nothing to do with the room temperature found its way into her heart and Chloe cried.

“It won’t stop.” He sobbed, miserable, his cheek resting on the top of her head, “I can’t… I keep seeing them! I’m s-supposed to be healed, b-but I keep seeing it all again, and… and…”

“Lucifer,” Chloe took a deep breath, pulling away and taking his face in her hands, wiping his tears away with her thumbs, “trauma doesn’t go away like physical wounds do. Those kinds of wounds and scars, they heal differently, babe…”

“But.. but they heal, right?” He sounded so damn hopeful that it made her tears fall even harder, “Right?”

She just pulled him into a hug, rocking him slightly despite knowing that neither of them was going back to sleep that night.


	15. Normal

Lucifer was doing better.

A few weeks had passed and it seemed that the more time passed, the more adjusted her boyfriend became.

He hadn’t magically healed or gone back to his old self, but he was… _better._

He talked to her more. He laughed and smiled and joked and ate. He accompanied her to the precinct almost every day.

Of course, some days, it seemed like nothing could make him smile. Sleep might have as well been his new sworn enemy. While he was slowly going back to chatting with people randomly, he was prepared to flee if someone touched him.

Chloe was stressed out. Yet, she felt oddly blessed.

She was afraid of many things.

She was scared that he would be taken away again or that he would get “sick” again. Lucifer began making sure to be in bed next to her when she woke up, even if he didn’t get any sleep himself, after she’d woken up and panicked upon finding the bed next to her empty.

She’d felt stupid that morning when she’d found him in the kitchen, making breakfast. Lucifer had burned his hand when she’d crashed into him, holding on to him with everything that she’d had.

Chloe didn’t like thinking about those things too often.

They were both hurt, but they had each other. Both of them agreed that that was more than enough.

The Penthouse had been repaired. Yet, neither of them had set foot in there as far as Chloe knew. Lucifer had gotten Maze to grab even more clothes for him somehow and that was that. He was staying with her and Trixie.

After a few long talks and a lot of pleading, he’d finally agreed to see Linda again.

Lucifer didn’t tell her much about those sessions. He always came back angry and distraught though. There were movies, Game Nights, and a lot more “domesticity” to do damage control in that regard. When Trixie went to sleep, there was a lot of making out too.

They had a lot to talk about, but they had time too. She didn’t want to pressure him, especially not when she felt that he was hanging on to sanity with a thin thread more often than not.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was something; something that Chloe refused to let go of.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“Lucifer, we need to talk about this.”

“No, we do not.” Lucifer insisted, cheerful grin almost manic, “It happened centuries ago, Doctor! No need to always dwell on the past, especially not when the present is so beautiful.”

“Having nightmares almost every night is beautiful?” Doctor Linda questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer tugged on one of his cuff links even harder at that. The poor, abused thing in the shape of a half moon went flying across the room.

He’d retrieve it later.

On second thought, maybe he should retrieve it now and leave. He’d promised the Detective that he would try and here he was, _trying_.

“Lucifer, the fact that you were sane before everything that happened recently was a miracle in its own right.” The Doctor continued, “And, before you say it, you know what I mean.”

“Why, thank you for that vote of confidence, Doctor.” He huffed, glaring at her.

“The things that you have been through-”

“Bloody Hell, why are you all stuck on that all the time?” He almost shouted. Did his eyes flash red too?

Why was the Doctor so talented at hiding her emotions?

“Stuck on what?”

“I haven’t been through a lot.” He almost yelled, “I just… Messed up things happen in life, Doctor. It’s the way Dad bloody _designed_ it!”

“True.” She nodded, leaning back in her chair, “Don’t you think that you’ve been through more than others?”

“Well, considering the fact that you humans are like mayflies compared to me, I would be inclined to say yes.”

“What about your siblings?” She asked, “Amenadiel, Azrael, Michael… Everyone else in the Silver City?”

“What about them?” He frowned, not understanding what she meant.

“Have they all been through the same things that you have been through, Lucifer?”

“No, of course not.” He snorted.

That felt… _weird_.

He wanted to destroy something thinking about Azrael getting hurt. Even Michael, the feathery prick…

No.

Did it matter though?

“And how does that make you feel?”

“It doesn’t.” Lucifer answered simply, “Everyone goes through their own things, Doctor.”

“You always used to talk about how unfair it was of your Father to toss you out and send you to Hell.” Doctor Linda reminded him, “What changed?”

He knew his place now, of course.

“What makes your recent visits to Hell and everything that happened different?”

He deserved it. _All_ of it.

Hell. The torture. Even his Father’s weird, little prison.

The Doctor waited for his answer. Lucifer knew that she already knew what it would be. “Leading him on a path of realization” and all that.

She knew him though, more than Lucifer liked to admit.

“You did not deserve any of it.” She concluded, oddly straightforward for once, “None of it, Lucifer.”

_“Oh, my king, when will you learn that all you deserve is pain and suffering?” She cooed, tracing the newest wounds on his back, “Nothing more. All those illusions of happiness and love and family up on Earth…” She laughed, “It’s a good thing that we have the time to teach you your worth once more.”_

“Had it been the Detective, how would you have felt?” Doctor Linda prodded.

The Detective.

_No. No. NO!_

“I wouldn’t let them!” He screamed, getting up, images that he would never forget clouding his mind in an unwelcome attack on all of his senses, “Never!”

“Would Chloe let them hurt you?” She asked, ignoring the tears on his face.

Of course she wouldn’t.

“N-no.”

“And why is that, Lucifer?”

“Because she… because she…”

Because she loved him.

She told him that a thousand times a day. Why were the Doctor’s words making him feel as though he’d just discovered a new layer of the Detective’s affection?

“I think that that’s enough therapy for today, Doctor.” Lucifer smiled, painfully aware that it looked fake. 

He hurried towards the door, forgetting about his wayward cufflink.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“So, did you fix things with Rae-Rae?” Lucifer asked.

“Uh huh.” Miss Lopez nodded, focused on whatever she was studying under one of her microscopes, “She stayed for the weekend. We talked. I might or might not have hit her with my lightsaber.”

“Hit her with your lightsaber?” Lucifer laughed, eyebrows raised.

“It’s fake.” Miss Lopez shrugged, scribbling something down on a notebook before going back to the microscope, “It’s not like I chopped her in half or anything, but she totally deserved it. I even threw a few DVDs at her.”

“None of the good ones I hope?” Lucifer wondered, snickering at the mental image of his little sister getting attacked with toys and CDs.

“Might have sacrificed one of my Game of Thrones DVDs.” She told him mournfully, “It sort of broke in half. Like, the box and everything. No idea how that happened.”

“Perks of celestial strength?” Lucifer mused.

“So, if Chloe’s not around, I can totally smash things on your head and you wouldn’t feel a thing?”

“Well, yes. Technically.” Lucifer nodded, before sobering up, “Refrain from doing so though!”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t!” Miss Lopez giggled, “Awesome.”

“That it is.”

“Luci?”

Lucifer turned towards the door, nodding in greeting at the sight of Amenadiel standing there.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Amenadiel told him, “Can we talk?”

“Oh, is it something that important, brother?” Lucifer smirked, getting up and straightening his suit jacket, “Lead the way. Bye, Miss Lopez.”

“Lucifer, I don’t think you should go with him.” Miss Lopez sighed, glaring at Amenadiel as she peeled the purple gloves off her hands, “How about we go find Chloe instead? She’s probably done talking with the Lieutenant.”

“Miss Lopez, is something the matter?” He wondered, looking between the tiny woman and his brother.

“Just… Chloe probably misses you.” Miss Lopez smiled.

She approached him and Lucifer tensed. She seemed to notice, lowering the hand that she was probably going to put on his back or his shoulder or something.

Lucifer gave her a small, grateful smile.

“Ella, you can’t keep it from him forever.” Amenadiel glared, “He needs to do it. He has a right to know about it at least!”

“I can’t even believe that you’re considering something like that.” Miss Lopez fumed. She was standing in front oh him almost protectively, glaring at his brother. “Lucifer, let’s go find Chloe.”

“Miss Lopez, what is he talking about?” Lucifer wondered, “What should I know?”

“It’s nothing important.” Miss Lopez assured him, turning to give him a pleading look, “Please, Lucifer. Amenadiel is just being an asshole.”

“You and Chloe can’t hide it from him forever!”

“I am not a toddler, Miss Lopez.” Lucifer frowned, not liking the tiny bits that he was understanding from the conversation, “I don’t need to be protected.”

“Exactly!” Amenadiel nodded, “Just let me tell him about it at least.”

“You know what his answer will be.” Miss Lopez almost growled, “You know what he’s like! Besides, you know the effect that that thought alone would have on him.”

“I am standing right here.” Lucifer huffed, “Hello!” He waved his hands, “What is it?”

“Well, Luci-”

“Lucifer.” Miss Lopez sighed, turning towards him again, “Do you trust Chloe?”

Lucifer had been ready to start an argument. The pleading in his friend’s gaze and the raw emotion behind her short question made him stop though.

What were they talking about?

“Of course I do.” He answered instantly, “ _Always._ ”

“Then, talk to her about this.” Miss Lopez continued, “It’s true that you have a right to know, but just… Just talk to Chloe, okay?”

He looked between his brother and the forensic scientist, not sure how to feel or act. The way that question had disarmed him would have been humorous, had it not been pathetic.

He just nodded, making his way out of the lab, pushing past Amenadiel and ignoring his brother’s angry ramblings.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“And so, you’re saying that everything is handled?” The Lieutenant questioned, studying the files in front of her.

“Yes.” Chloe nodded, “Everything has been handled. It was a strange case for sure, but we cracked it.”

Ella’s creativity was a blessing.

She’d spent two days with the forensic scientist, writing up reports and trying to make their story as plausible as possible.

Since a few officers had noticed some similarities between their latest crime scene and the crime scene left at the Mayan, Chloe decided to start from there.

They went with the story of a how a few surviving members of a zealot cult decided to “sacrifice” those two women and the little girl. Considering that the two bodies previously inhabited by demons had been found a few days ago, it wasn’t too hard to connect the dots.

They’d had to work more on explaining the cause of death and a bit more backstory though, especially when it came to the fact that the two bodies had been burned.

Chloe didn’t know if that was Lilith’s doing or what. She didn’t care. Actually, the more she thought about it, the harder she found it to focus on that “case”.

It hurt that those victims had died to deliver a messed up message. Who could she arrest though? Lilith was already gone.

Ella had already talked to the Lietenant, giving a long explanation about their findings, considering the fact that Chloe had taken some personal time to spend with Lucifer because he was “sick”. Chloe had no idea why she was there in the first place.

“And is your partner… okay?”

“He’s doing better.” Chloe smiled, nodding, “He’s not sick anymore either.”

“He looks better.” The Lietenant nodded, “Does-”

Lucifer chose that moment to burst into the room of course.

The Lieutenant paused mid-sentence, giving him a strange look.

“Yes, Mister Morningstar?”

“We need to talk.” Lucifer told her, not sparing the other occupant of the room another look.

Lucifer gripped her hand and proceeded to drag her away, ignoring whatever the Lietenant was saying. He was oddly gentle, yet persistent. Chloe gave their boss an apologetic look, turning to follow him out.

“Lucifer, are you okay?” She asked, worried, “Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer, leading her towards the same empty conference room that they’d used a while back.

“Why?” He questioned once the door was shut.

“Why what?”

“What are you hiding, Detective?” He demanded. He sounded… hurt. 

“Lucifer, what are you talking about?” Chloe gently prodded, moving to wrap her arms around his waist.

Lucifer flinched, closing his eyes. She stared at him, shocked.

He’d never flinched away from her. _Never_.

She tried to get away from him, instantly regretting her decision when he flinched again and whimpered. Chloe stayed where she was, trying her hardest to think about what could have been distressing him that much.

“Lucifer, what happened?” She demanded, wishing that she could touch him. “Lucifer? You’re scaring me!”

What happened?

“Lucifer?”

“Amenadiel wanted to talk to me.” He admitted, eyes still screwed shut.

Oh.

“Lucifer…” She sighed. It was her turn to be upset. “May I hug you?”

It took him a while to respond, but he eventually nodded. Chloe crept closer, holding him as close as possible and finding comfort in the soft fabric of his blue shirt against her cheek and his trademark scent engulfing her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, “I know choices matter to you, but what he wants… Lucifer, I can’t.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” He whisepred, “I’m not a young spawn, Detective. Why would you…?”

“I’m sorry.” She repeated, standing on her toes to press a kiss to her cheek, “I just…”

“What did he want?” Lucifer asked when they’d been standing there, him stiff and unmoving in her arms, for a few minutes.

It was her turn to hesitate.

“Gabriel,” she began, “remember how Amenadiel said your father sent him down to rule Hell?”

Lucifer nodded.

She had no idea how Lucifer felt about that.

When Amenadiel had revealed everything to them a while back, Lucifer had just… nodded. He’d nodded and turned to her, asking if they could go back home already.

She hadn’t heard him talk about the whole thing ever since then. She was slowly getting used to the idea of his brothers and sisters, all powerful beings who’d been around for more time than her entire solar system. If she ever met Gabriel, she was going to murder him for everything that he’d put them through.

“He… he wants to talk to you.”

  
“That’s it?” Lucifer snorted, “Detective, that feathered arsehole can show up any time he wants to. I’d _love_ to talk to him.”

Now, she knew that Lucifer was lying.

Deep down, she knew that he still cared. What did it feel like to know that your brother, who hadn’t even talked to you in several thousand years, had orchestrated a grand master plan to wipe you from existence because you were the “root of all evil”?

But that wasn’t even their issue.

“Lucifer,” she began, hating the upcoming several minutes already, “your father trapped him in Hell. He can’t get out. Remember?”

She waited for Lucifer to figure it out, dreading his answer.

“So, he wants me to…” Lucifer trailed off, finally opening his eyes, horrified.

Chloe nodded.

“You can’t!” She immediately told him, “Lucifer, you _can’t_. I don’t care what he wants or how important it is…”

“Detective, I get to decide if I will go or not.”

“You’re going to pass out just thinking about it!”

She wasn’t exaggerating. Chloe felt that she was the one holding him upright. She was worried about how he was shaking as well.

_No. No. No!_

This was why she’d been trying her hardest to avoid Amenadiel and prevent him from seeing Lucifer for the past few days.

“I’m not weak!” Lucifer thundered.

Her hands were on his forearms, steadying him. He’d paled, his fear shining through despite how angry he looked.

“You’re not.” Chloe easily agreed, “But you’re not going down there either.”

“That,” Lucifer growled, “is up to me to decide.”

He stepped away, voluntarily declining her touch for the first time since forever. Lucifer was gone in a flash of white.

Her traitorous mind took her back to that time on his balcony, when he’d disappeared to go down there as well. She’d felt the wind softly brushing against her cheek as her eyes burned and her heart exploded with a million different variations of agony.

Why couldn’t they catch a break?

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

It was the weirdest fight that they’d ever had.

Neither of them was particularly keen on being apart. Yet, both of them were mad at each other. Lucifer was mad because she’d hidden the whole thing from him. She was mad because he was actually considering going to Hell.

She’d tried calling him and praying to him. Lucifer had texted her after an hour, assuring her that he was fine. That was oddly mature on his part. Chloe was proud of him for it.

He didn’t come home that night.

He texted her again to tell her that he was going to spend the night at the Penthouse. Chloe wanted to drive there and drag him by the ear to her house, knowing that his nightmares were going to be horrible that night.

How could she leave him alone like that?

Trixie had been moody, upset that Lucifer wasn’t there to watch movies with her. The little girl had called him and he’d apparently picked up.

“What did he say, monkey?” Chloe asked, more anxious than she’d like to admit.

“That he has a lot of stuff to do at LUX.” Trixie shrugged, “Some sort of emergency apparently. He said that he’d come back tomorrow and that he was happy that I couldn’t torture him with Disney movies tonight.”

She knew that what she’d done was wrong, but could anyone blame her? She didn’t want him to go to the one place that had been a constant source of pain and torture for him. Sue her.

She gave him his space, hoping that he would knock on her door in the middle of the night. She knew that he wouldn’t. However, laying down in their bed, cold without him there to warm it with his devilish heat, Chloe couldn’t withstand thinking about him writhing and screaming alone in the darkness.

Was there a way to ensure that he wouldn’t go?

Chloe wondered if he was down there right now.

She bolted upright in her bed, horrified.

Could he do that to her?

He wouldn’t. No way. Lucifer knew better.

Right?

She didn’t get any sleep that night, thinking about him in Hell. What if it was a trap? What if they imprisoned him again? What if he got hurt or sick or…

She tried calling him again, ignoring her previous decision to give him space.

Lucifer didn’t answer.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

_Coffee?_

The text message, sent at exactly five in the morning, read.

_-Yes, please._

_Meet me at the Penthouse?_

_-Okay. I’ll get Trix to school then come over._

She’d rushed through her morning routine, eager to go see him. Chloe felt silly. They were adults, not lovesick teenagers. He was okay. She was okay.

Everything was okay.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

“So, it was a bad idea, huh?” She asked once she found him, loathing how unsure she was of what to say or do.

“You think?” Lucifer snorted.

He was out on the balcony, smoking with several empty bottles around him. Chloe had seen a crumbled hundred dollar bill and traces of a white substance she knew too well on the bar when she’d walked in. Judging by the small pile of ashes on the floor next to him and the numerous stubs…

Celestial metabolism, she reminded herself.

He looked disheveled, tired, and sleep-deprived. Miserable. Angry. Defeated.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, “Can I…” She trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Lucifer studied her for a moment before nodding. He put out his cigarette, his gaze firmly fixed on his shoes.

She sat next to him, hugging him. She brushed a few stray curls away from his eyes, cupping his face in her hands before kissing him.

Lucifer was silent throughout it all.

“I’m still not a bloody child.” He whispered, “Detective, why would you…?”

“I’m sorry.” She repeated, caressing his cheek, “I know, Lucifer. I’ve been a bit… overprotective lately, haven’t I?”

Could anyone blame her?

After everything they’d been through, after every time she lost him the moment she got him back…

“Lucifer, I’m scared.” She confessed, her eyes already burning, “More scared than you can even imagine. I know you’re scared as well.”

“I’m not a bloody coward either!”

“You’re not.” She shook her head, smiling, “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

She seemed to surprise him with that statement. Why wouldn’t she when he thought that he was the embodiment of everything negative and horrible in creation?

“Self preservation isn’t cowardice.”

“Even my Father agrees that I shouldn’t go there.” Lucifer told her, “He assigned Gabriel of all my siblings to take the throne.”

“And that asshole deserves it.”

“Detective…” Lucifer sighed, “I need to talk to him. I need to go.”

“You can’t.” Chloe pled.

How many times would she beg him to not leave?

“Lucifer, you’re not okay.” She began, “There are a ton of things that we haven’t even talked about and-”

“Like what?” He challenged, eyebrow raised.

“Your Father.” Chloe retorted, almost feeling guilty, “You never told me what happened in that white void or what you two talked about during your hundred little chats!”

“He said he’s proud of me!” Lucifer exploded, rising to his feet. His eyes flashed red, his anger almost palpable in the air around them. “That’s the last thing he said! He manipulates me and tortures me and ruins my life and then he has the nerve to say he’s fucking proud of me! Do you want to talk about that, Detective?”

“Yes!” She replied, rising to her feet, “Of course I do!”

“You have no right to tell me where I can and can’t go!”

“And you have no right to leave me and hurt yourself every single time!” She cried.

Lucifer paused, eyes wide. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, a scalding proof of the turmoil residing deep within her soul. She closed her eyes, raking her mind for a way to fix this.

A second later, there were hands on her shoulders. A sob escaped her throat when calloused hands softly brushed her tears away.

“Detective…” He breathed.

She hugged him, slamming into him with all her might, feeling the power of her sobs tear through her.

It was almost ridiculous.

They’d both cried so much. 

“You still don’t get it.” She sobbed into his chest, “You don’t understand that what hurts you hurts the people who love you, Lucifer, because you still have trouble understanding that anyone _can_ love you in the first place.”

“Detective…” He whispered again, his face buried in her hair. Was he crying too?

“But, the thing is, I love you, Lucifer Morningstar!” She told him, her words armoured with the power of more emotions than she knew any human could feel, “I love you and I can’t live without you and I can’t deal with seeing you hurt anymore!”

“I need to go.” He pleaded, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Just for a little bit. One conversation. Detective, I beg you.”

She stared into his eyes, eyes older than the creation of her world, endless and beautiful and tragic as they subtly shone with more memories and experiences than her feeble human mind could even begin to comprehend.

Chloe kissed him, tasting salt and regret and a thousand shades of agony, already knowing that she was going to let him pop down to Hell for a chat with his brother.

Her tears fell even faster.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

It took a lot of time, but the two of them finally reached an agreement.

Lucifer would take Maze and Amenadiel with him (no arguments). Chloe would let him go. She would take the day off and wait for him at the Penthouse. They had an hour in earth time. After that, Chloe was going to pray to Azrael, who had sworn to answer, for help.

The hours they spent discussing it and the constant assurances Lucifer kept trying to give her did little to soothe Chloe’s mind. She dreamt of him down there in the two days leading up to his departure. Her dreams got so bad that she just ended up joining him, staying up together doing nothing other than being close to each other. 

“Decker, I’ll protect him.” Maze promised before she left, “I swear. I wasn’t there last time, but this time…”

Chloe nodded, thanking her.

She didn’t doubt Maze’s skills, but still…  
“I will be there too.” Amenadiel assured her, “No harm will come to him with both Mazikeen and I there, Chloe. You have my word.”

She nodded again, giving him a small smile.

“Yes, and I’m right here.” Lucifer scoffed, glaring at the demon and the angel, “Perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. Nobody cares about that though, now do they?”

“Of course I care.” Chloe sighed, “Just… be careful, okay?”

“I’m not a bloody toddler!”

“Lucifer…”

He sighed, walking up to her, his hands finding their way to her waist.

“Apologies, darling.”

“I love you.” She smiled, kissing him, trying not to think about how it could be the last time.

“I love you too.” Lucifer smiled, pressing another kiss to her forehead, “I promised the urchin that I'll pick her up from urchin jail and then we’ll finally build another pillowfort and watch _Frozen_ tonight. Can’t miss that, now can I?” He joked.

It was so him that she laughed, feeling a bit of her worry lessen.

Lucifer took a deep breath. He stepped away from her, nodding to the other two occupants of the room.

“Done with your disgusting, little make out session?” Maze wondered, twirling one of her demon blades in her hands.

“Never thought you’d call making out disgusting.” Lucifer snorted, “Being you and all that.”

“I like sex, not…” She gestured vaguely in their direction, wrinkling her nose in disgust. " _That._ "

Chloe smiled, appreciating every “normal” moment. Lucifer was still close to her. He seemed to hesitate before joining Maze and Amenadiel on the balcony.

She watched the two angels spread their wings. Lucifer was going to carry Maze. 

Maze whispered something to him in her mother tongue. Lucifer nodded, eyes dark.

Chloe watched them disappear, trying to convince herself that she was probably going to see him in a few minutes.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Going back to Hell was something that Lucifer never thought he would have to deal with again.

He couldn't hide with the Detective and the Spawn forever though. He couldn't spend every single day for the rest of eternity pretending that nothing had happened.

Lucifer was sick of trying to convince himself and everyone that he was okay when he and everyone else already knew that he wasn't. 

Would this solve it?

If he faced the… root of the problem… would it help? Would he feel better?

Would he scream? Would he beat Gabriel up? Would he feel better seeing Gabriel stuck in Hell like he was, alone on that forlorn throne? Would that resolve everything? Would he be able to go back to normal?

The answer to all those questions was a very strong "no".

He wanted to fly back to Earth the moment he felt himself enter the infernal realm. Mazikeen and Amenadiel were on either side of him instantly. Their presence was suffocating, but Lucifer wouldn't give the comfort their protection brought him for anything.

His suit was impeccable. His body was perfectly healed and his hait was perfectly coiffed. His wings were bright and whole, as much of a warning to every single demon crawling in the shadows as they had ever been.

Yet, he felt _weak._

He could feel the chains on his wrists and ankles, the wounds on every inch of his skin, the ash in his lungs, the poison in his veins, the-

"Lucifer?" Amenadiel asked cautiously.

Lucifer gulped, reminding himself to breathe. He was stronger than this.

"So, where is Gabey?" He asked casually, devil-may-care smirk firmly in place, "I know he's got a lot of time on his hands with nothing to do except rot in Hell all day, but some of us have lives to get back to."

"The devil doesn't get to have a life." Gabriel fumed, flying down from the top of the throne, "The devil belongs in Hell. The devil _deserves_ to rot in Hell."

"Funny how you're the one here instead of me then." Lucifer smirked, resisting the urge to fly away.

He hasn't seen his brother since the Fall.

They haven't been brothers in even longer.

"It's just a mistake." Gabriel frowned.

"A mistake?" Lucifer laughed, "Never thought you'd ever suggest Dear Old Dad could even make mistakes."

"He doesn't." Gabriel shook his head, "You do. You're just a mistake, Samael. You ruin everything."

"My name is Lucifer." Lucifer growled. His eyes glowed, two rubies in the infernal darkness of Hell.

There were no other demons around. Lucifer could faintly hear them though in the far distance. They made his skin crawl and his chest ache.

"What do you have to say?" Maze interrupted Gabriel before he could even say anything, "Like Lucifer said, we don't have the rest of eternity to chat like you do."

Gabriel hardly spared her a look, his blue eyes reflecting everything from nonchalance to pure hatred.

"You need to return to Hell." Gabriel simply said, smiling.

"What?" The two other angels and the only demon echoed at once.

"He's the devil!" Gabriel exploded, "He belongs in Hell! I'm an angel! _You're_ an angel!" He pointed to Amenadiel, walking up to him, unaffected by the knives Maze immediately pointed at him, "We don't spend time in Hell! We don't hang around with demons. We don't fraternise with humans! Have you forgotten all of that, Amenadiel? Did all your encounters with him cloud your judgement this much?"

"He wasn't the devil." Amenadiel instantly replied, shocking Lucifer and Maze into silence, "When he… landed here, he wasn't the devil. He wasn't Lucifer Morningstar. He wasn't Satan or the Adversary."

"I wasn't Old Scratch either." Lucifer pointed out, "One of my favourites, brother."

Amenadiel snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Nicknames don't mean all that much." Gabriel huffed, eyes narrow.

"Names are powerful." Amenadiel retorted, "All those names have meanings and all names have stories. He wasn't evil when he burned in the lake."

"He burned in the lake _because_ he was evil!"

"Because he made a mistake." Amenadiel corrected, "He made a mistake, Gabe. A big mistake, but still... Everyone makes mistakes."

Lucifer was frozen. He couldn't even muster humorous or sarcastic responses.

"Is he evil because we tried to say he is or is he truly evil?" Amenadiel challenged.

Lucifer closed his eyes.

That night…

The night everything changed.

The night Delilah… the morning after he met the Detective and then…

Amenadiel _remembered_.

"They're just words, Gabe." Amenadiel sighed, "Evil, good, angel, devil… Words. Labels. We spent so long pretending that we know what each one means, taking sides, fighting an endless war… we're just ourselves in the end. I made the same mistakes for so long and I took even longer to learn… You can't scapegoat Lucifer for everything wrong in our lives."

"Do you remember the Silver City?" Gabriel spoke at last, quiet, his eyes not particularly focused on anything, "Before. Before humans. Before Mother and Father fought. Before Sammy fell and before Mother got banished. Before Uriel… died? We used to be happy. We used to sing. He helped Dad light up the whole universe and we'd just watch all the beautiful lights for what felt like decades…Do-"

"Is there a point to your little sob story?"

"It's all gone now." He bit out, glaring at Maze.

"You make it sound like I've been vacationing while you suffered up there." Lucifer laughed, feeling more bitter and angry than he'd felt in eons, "Were you thrown out like garbage? Did you burn for millennia? Did you suffer this?"

He was yelling by the end of his short rant. Lucifer didn't know it, but his Devil Face took over just at that moment, worse than it had ever been.

More red. More angry. More scarred.

More _him_.

"And is this who you are?" Gabriel mocked, "Devil face, angel wings, and human… attire?"

"Devil. Angel. Human." Maze listened off, tongue pressed to her teeth, "Who he is is his business. Who are you though?" She challenged, "Done trying to convince yourself that Daddy made a mistake tossing you down here? Have the demons expressed their displeasure at having an angel on the throne yet?"

Gabriel tensed. His wings quivered.

"Yeah and they're still scared of how Mikey obliterated hundreds of them before smiling their mother out of existence." She grinned, "Wait a few more decades… You have no one and you don't seem like you're the survivor type."

"Lucifer isn't coming back here." Amenadiel concluded, "If that's all you wanted to say, then good day to you, Gabe."

"And don't you have a thing to say, devil?" Gabriel taunted, turning to Lucifer, "Bless us with a bit more of your lies. Let's see if you can trick me like you tricked them."

"You think that this is a trick?" Lucifer snorted.

"You tricked everyone into taking your side." Gabriel scoffed, "Even Dad. Bringing you back… of all things to do…"

"I suggest you take that up with Him then." Lucifer replied, "normal" face back, "We're done here."

This was it? This was the big talk?

He didn't wait.

Lucifer instantly soared up, beyond done with everything.

When Gabriel tried to follow him, Maze was there to interfere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter is left after this one and I'm almost done with writing it. Can you believe that? I think it's pretty awesome...
> 
> Almost 12 days to season 5a!!!
> 
> Stay safe everyone and have a good day/night!


	16. All of Me

"You're okay." Chloe smiled, hugging him as tightly as she could, ready to collapse from relief.

"Of course I'm okay." He scoffed, his eyes betraying his casual tone, "I told you that I would be, didn't I, Detective?"

"Are you seriously saying 'I told you so' right now?" She laughed, "I missed you."

"I was gone for a few minutes!"

"Have you ever seen how you pout whenever Decker is more than a meter away from you?" Maze scoffed, eyebrow raised, jumping down from Amenadiel's arms.

"The devil does not pout!"

"Sure." Maze rolled her eyes, "We're done here then?"

"Did you murder Gabriel?" Lucifer asked, wrapping an arm around Chloe's waist, inching closer to her.

"Amenadiel saved him." Maze growled, glaring at Amenadiel.

"Well, someone has to rule Hell!" Amenadiel reminded her.

"You weren't fond of the shit he was saying either." Maze challenged him, "I wouldn't have murdered him anyway. Where's the fun in that?"

"It's all settled then?" Chloe asked, "No more going down there?"

"Not really, my love." Lucifer smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "You're stuck with me now."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Chloe smiled back.

"Excuse me while I go barf." Maze complained, heading to the elevator.

"Goodbye, Lucifer, Chloe." Amenadiel said, following Maze, "Don't let what Gabriel said get into your head."

"Since when do you care?" Lucifer called out after him, affronted.

Chloe rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. Eventually, everyone would go back to treating him the way they used to. It hasn't even been a month since his… _resurrection._

The fact that he couldn't deal with everyone caring for him and trying to be nice to him was something that she was never going to get over.

"Should I be worried about what Gabriel said?" She questioned, turning to face him, placing her hands on his chest.

"I think everyone should be prohibited from worrying within six feet from me." Lucifer groaned, burying his face in her shoulder, "Enough worrying already!"

"We love you." Chloe grinned, smoothing his hair back, trying to get some of the ash out of it, "You need to get used to it."

Lucifer didn't say anything, shaking his head against her shoulder.

"You died." She reminded him.

"I got better." Lucifer mumbled, "It's not like it's the first time anyway."

" _Lucifer._ " She gasped. 

"Not now, my darling." He groaned, "Later."

"The list of things we need to talk about is getting ridiculously long." Chloe bit her lip.

How many times has he died?

"We have time." Lucifer looked up, hopeful, "That's the whole bloody point of this, isn't it?"

"We have time." She confirmed, kissing him, "All the time in the world."

"I love you, Detective." Lucifer sighed, "So, so much."

"I love you too."

And she was happy.

Looking into his endless eyes, standing there with him, feeling his heartbeat under her fingertips and his breath on her cheek… this was what she needed. This was what she _wanted._

"Do you think that we could… move forward?" Lucifer asked.

Was that shyness in his voice?

Lucifer Morningstar being _shy._

Wow.

"Forward?"

"I want to move on." Lucifer told her, "Ever since the first time I left, Detective…" he shook his head, "I just want my old life back."

"Things change." Chloe replied, "Going backwards isn't good for anyone, right?" She noticed how his face seemed to fall. "Lucifer, hey, look at me." She waited until his eyes met hers, "Change isn't a bad thing."

"I don't think I like the way things have changed." 

"Even when it includes us? Together at last?"

"Detective, it's like you're scared you'll break me."

"No." She sighed, "I can't bear losing you again. We're going to move forward, but that doesn't mean that we ignore everything that happened."

"I don't understand." 

"I'll help you." Chloe promised. “I promise.”

"Cheesy." He smirked, "My, my, Detective."

She kissed him then, a hand at the back of his neck gently bringing him closer to her.

"We'll figure it out." She whispered, "I know you're… _confused._ "

"Understandment of the century." He huffed, "Confused, tired, bloody losing my mind… you name it." He close his eyes for a second, almost as if he could blink away all his troubles, "But I have you, my love, so I suppose it does not matter."

"Who's the cheesy one now?" She challenged before kissing him again.

They were ridiculous.

So in love, so passionate, so free…

She's always thought that feelings this intense and emotions this powerful were restricted to tv shows and books.

She'd never thought that she'd look at one person, at Satan himself, and feel her heart ache with how much she loved him.

But here she was and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"So is this the part of our wondrous tale where I finally get you to my bed, darling?" Lucifer asked, almost innocent with his swollen lips and earnest face.

"We've slept in the same bed countless times."

"Have we?" He mused, brow furrowed, "I don't seem to recall."

"Guess I'll have to remind you."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her for the hundredth time.

Now, Chloe had envisioned this several thousand times, if not more, and yet it seemed like she'd gotten every single second wrong.

Did it matter though?

She was kissing him and he was reciprocating eagerly, hungry and yearning, yet oddly gentle. It was strange; the perfect mix between rough and soft, slow and fast, simple and complicated.

It was just perfect.

He was just perfect.

 _They_ were just perfect.

After a few minutes, his suit jacket was already on the floor and his shirt followed it. They were quickly heading to his bed after a short stop at the couch.

"Do you... Are you sure you want this?" He managed to say, his impossibly dark eyes somehow magnifying his uncertainty.

She almost laughed, remembering that one time she'd...

Did it even matter?

She had him now. The real him.

"You have no idea how sure I am." She whispered, bringing him closer before pressing another kiss to his lips.

It was really-

What was that?

Her phone was… ringing?

"Detective, if you even _consider_ answering that-"

"It could be important." She frowned, biting her lip as she pulled away from him.

"Detective!" He whined, "You cannot be serious right now!"

Her own jacket was… where was her jacket?

She found it near the coffee table, quickly fishing her phone out of it.

"Ella is calling." She told Lucifer, holding the phone up to show him the caller ID.

"Who bloody cares?" He huffed, "We have more important things to do. Miss Lopez would surely understand."

Well, it was hard to see him looking like _that_ and think about anything else. Chloe was relieved when the phone stopped ringing, tossing it to the couch before making her way back to her boyfriend.

Ella could-

The phone started ringing again.

"Oh bloody Hell!"

Lucifer marched to the couch, picking up the phone and answering.

"What is it?"

Chloe couldn't help but giggle, her smile widening at the glare he sent her.

"Yes, I am back. It went _fine."_ Lucifer huffed, "Is that all?"

"Yes, well, Miss Lopez, the Detective is busy!" Lucifer explained, exasperated, "Speaker phone? Really? Didn't you just say you need to talk to me? Okay! Fine!"

Chloe felt horrible. She really was enjoying this.Lucifer put the phone on speaker, glaring at the gadget. She wondered if he had some sort of power that could blow up her phone with a thought.

Probably not, since he would've already blown it up the moment it started ringing.

"Hi, Chloe!" Ella's cheery voice filled the room.

"Hey, Ella." Chloe nodded, "Is everything okay?"

"I sort of need your help." Ella sighed, "Both of you."

"Couldn't it wait?" Lucifer complained.

"It already did. For almost ten hours, dude." Ella informed him, "I'm beyond worried at this point soooo."

"What happened? Are you the precinct?"

"No." Ella replied, "I'm at home. Took the day off when… I guess you should come see for yourselves."

"Miss Lopez!" Lucifer whined.

"It's serious." Ella reminded him, "I swear."

Lucifer shared a look with her, sighing.

"We'll be on our way." He promised, "Your flat is the location of this horrible emergency that cannot wait?"

"More like my couch, but yeah." Ella confirmed, "Sorry if I interrupted anything, man, but, like I said, it can't wait."

"Cockblocker." Lucifer mumbled before hanging up and heading to his closet.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

Lucifer could not care less about the emergency.

The part of him that was actually concerned was idiotic. Miss Lopez had sounded fine. He cared about her, not about whatever mystery was on her couch of all the bloody places in the universe.

The Detective drove them to the forensic scientist’s flat, teasing him and joking with him between their speculations and theories about what could possibly be wrong.

“Maybe Margaret got hurt?” The Detective wondered as they made their way to the apartment complex.

“Who the hell is Margaret?”

“Ella’s chicken.” The Detective snickered, “Bathtub chicken.” She added.

“If I got dragged out here to take care of a chicken…” Lucifer almost growled.

The Detective rubbed his arm, steering him towards the elevator.

“It sounded serious.” She reminded him, “Ella really needs us.”

“And I really need you, my love.”

The Detective giggled at that. He couldn’t help but smile. How could she make him forget everything with one look or one smile?

“So, Miss Lopez, what, pray tell, is your grand emergency?” He wondered, pushing past her into the small apartment, “Alien invasion? Zombie apocalypse? A fracture in the spacetime continuum?”

“No.” The tiny woman frowned, “Sort of? I mean it does technically involve an alien and teleportation.”

“You’re harboring an alien on your couch?” The Detective stuttered, “I… Ella, stick to Margaret only in the future. We’ve talked about this.”

“He just showed up!” Miss Lopez defended.

“Now, what on-”

_Oh._

Lucifer blinked.

“Michael?”

This was the emergency? Did his twin seriously exist to ruin his life and spoil his fun?

“Did you haul us all the way out here because you got a visit from Michael?” Lucifer whined, “Miss Lopez!”

“Something is wrong with him.” Miss Lopez pointed out, gesturing at his brother who had remained unmoving. She made her way to the small living room, closely followed by the Detective.

“Something has always been wrong with him.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “It’s basically his default setting. I’m afraid that wrongness is the norm for my twin.”

“Lucifer, I’m serious!” She even sounded furious, “He crashed in the middle of my living room at like 1 a.m, wings and all. I managed to get him to the couch and bandage a few wounds he had and he’s just been sitting there, staring at nothing for hours!”

That sounded like a bit of a problem.

“Catatonia?” The Detective guessed, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. Michael didn’t even blink.

“I’m worried that something happened to him.” Miss Lopez confessed, “I mean, he was crying a few hours ago.”

“I thought you said he’s just been sitting there.”

“Silent tears. He’s not even blinking.” Miss Lopez elaborated, “I tried everything, but he won’t talk to me. I was gonna call you guys before, but with the whole going to Hell thing and the fact that Michael here didn’t look like he was in immediate danger…”

“So, couldn’t you have waited a few more hours?” Lucifer mused.

“Lucifer!” The Detective cautioned.

“Kidding.” He grinned, “I have much better stamina, darling.”

She glared at him. Who was she trying to fool though? Lucifer could see the small smile on her lips and the reddish tinge on her cheeks.

Joking aside, something _was_ wrong with Michael. Just the fact that he was on Earth was enough of a warning sign.

“Mikey.” He sighed, stepping in front of his brother and crouching down so that they were on the same eye level, “What happened?”

“Seriously?” Miss Lopez complained, “This is your grand plan? I thought you had some… I don’t know… angel voodoo or something.”

“Sammy?” Came the small reply.

“Not my name anymore.” Lucifer almost growled.

He instantly felt bad for it though. His brother was blinking slowly, his eyes sharpening. He looked lost and confused.

Lucifer was… worried.

The last place that Michael had gone was the Silver City. The thing about his twin was that he rarely left the Silver City. He had too much work to do there anyway. What had they done to him and why was he here?

“Sammy?” He repeated again.

The Detective was next to him, her eyes warning him not to say a word. Lucifer was almost ready to ignore his brother’s continuous usage of his old name for now.

“Hey, Michael, do you know where you are?” The Detective tried, that infuriatingly calm voice she used for victims in full effect, “What’s the last thing that you remember?”

“Why are you on Earth?” Lucifer asked instead.

Just the fact that Michael had ended up in Miss Lopez’s flat had to indicate that he knew that he was on Earth at least. It wasn’t like Michael had ended up in the desert or in Antarctica.

“S-Sammy, Father… he… he…”

_Shit._

Lucifer’s eyes widened.

Michael couldn’t even seem to get the words out, his eyes back to staring at something far away. He seemed afraid, pale and shaken. 

Lucifer didn’t need an explanation.

He was suddenly angry. Angry at his Father, at the Silver City, at _everything._ It wasn’t _fair._

Somewhere deep down within him, a voice mocked him for being furious on Michael’s behalf. Michael getting kicked out of Heaven should’ve made him happy. Wasn’t it Michael who’d tossed him out when their Father had demanded it?

“What happened?” Lucifer asked, hoping that his voice sounded calmer than he felt.

“H-he wouldn’t let me in!” Michael almost gasped. He blinked once and life seemed to return to his body. He began to tremble.

The Detective and Miss Lopez didn’t say anything, watching them.

“Was it because you…?” Lucifer sighed, “Michael, you dullard, you shouldn’t have helped me!”

“No.” Michael gulped, “Not… no. That was Gabriel’s fabrication. The o-opposite happened actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wouldn’t let me in.” Michael whispered again. Lucifer had no idea if he was deliberately ignoring him or if he hadn’t heard his question. “I-I’m not allowed to go home again!”

Lucifer ignored all the conflicting feelings in his chest, wondering how many hours of therapy dealing with them would take.

He remembered what it was like. The sinking realization that you were alone, that you had no one, that your only home in creation was now a mere memory…

He moved to the couch, sitting next to his brother, opening his arms silently. Michael turned towards him just a bit and stared at them for a moment, blinking sluggishly. Another moment passed before Lucifer found himself with an armful of distraught angel.

Lucifer knew that he should be laughing. Karma was a bitch, right? He should be satisfied. _Happy_ even.

Yet, his eyes were burning again and his chest felt like it was going to explode very soon.

"I'm so sorry, Mikey." He found himself whispering.

"I-I don't understand." Michael whispered back, "Why would He…?"

"Because He's an arsehole." Lucifer sighed, patting his brother's back, "I've been telling you that for millennia, remember?"

Michael didn't say anything.

Maybe this was why Lucifer was feeling bad for his twin. Michael… Michael was the perfect son.

He was annoying really.

His emotions, desires, and choices didn't matter. Not when it came to their Father's commands and wishes anyway.

Michael just went on with life, pushing everything so deep down that even Lucifer had to worry about him back when he wasn't so busy hating his existence. 

Michael pulled away from him, possibly embarrassed. Lucifer wondered if it was because of him or because of the human occupants of the room.

"Are you… hurt?" The Detective hesitated.

Did Michael Fall too?

"Nothing serious." Michael mumbled, "Thank you for your concern, Chloe Decker."

The Detective nodded, her worried gaze never leaving the two of them.

"What happened?" Miss Lopez asked, "You know, if you… if you want to talk about it, I mean."

"He said that I deserved a reward." Michael said after a pause, staring at the floor, "A-after how I helped Samael… He said that I deserved more. More than the Silver City had to offer me. He insisted that I should be free and just…"

Of course.

Michael gets his freedom handed to him on a silver platter and then the idiot proceeds to have a breakdown over it.

"You should be grateful-"

"Sammy, don't you dare-"

"You're free!" Lucifer tried.

"I'm not you." His brother growled, "I do not want to live on earth! I do not want to befriend humans and… and learn to live among them and mate with them!"

Michael sounded horrified at the prospect of being anywhere near humans. His words were making Lucifer's blood boil, but it wasn't like his brother was wrong.

"It's not that bad." Miss Lopez tried to reassure him, giving him a small smile and a pat on the shoulder, "Earth isn't anything like Heaven, but, from what I've heard from Lucifer and Rae-Rae, that seems like a good thing. You can stay in my apartment for a while if you want."

“Or one of my properties.” Lucifer offered.

"The Silver City is my home!"

"It was my home too." Lucifer sighed, "Remember?"

"I'm not like you." Michael repeated, "I don't belong here."

"Lucifer didn't belong here either." The Detective supplied, making Lucifer tense, "Life is all about finding where you belong. It doesn't have to be Los Angeles; you have… well, you have the whole universe. There's more to it than the Silver City, right?"

Michael didn't say anything.

Lucifer looked at the small clock on the wall, contemplating his options.

It was going to be a long day.

**_*cries in Deckerstar*_ **

“Lucifer, you need to sit down!”

“But you said I can help out this time!” He complained, glaring at the urchin.

“I just said that so that you would shut up.” She sighed, taking the blanket from his hands, “And it would totally help out if you stopped meddling.”

“The devil does not meddle!” 

“Because he’s busy whining all the time!” The urchin retorted, dragging a chair to the position that she deemed perfect.

The nerve of that girl! What could he expect though? Her mother was the Detective and her best friend was the most fearsome demon Hell had to offer. Daniel’s genes had no chance.

“You need to rest.” She informed him, taking his hand and trying to steer him in the general direction of the bedroom, “Maybe take a nap? We have a bit over an hour left before we start.”

“The devil does not take naps!” He cried out, affronted.

“You didn’t sleep at all last night.” The spawn went on, “And we want to have a movie marathon tonight! You look really, really tired and you keep yawning. At this rate, you’ll fall asleep before we even start!”

“So you’re saying I’ll get to miss your bloody torture by Disney movies?” Lucifer mused.

“You promised!”

She was pouting at him.

Bloody Hell. That child was _fierce._

Lucifer wanted to be mad at her, to tell her that his sleeping schedule was none of her business. He wasn’t another spawn her age. He was an immortal being. He was still himself.

So what if falling asleep cuddling the Detective while watching stupid movies happened a few times? It didn’t mean anything.

However, the more he looked at the little girl, the worse he felt. He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same one she’d had for a while after her mother got poisoned or had that car accident; the same one she tried to hide for the duration of his “sickness”.

The urchin was worried about him.

Doctor Linda had tried to explain that that was normal. She’d tried to get him to understand the spawn’s increased need for disgusting hugs and her general clinginess. Lucifer thought that he got the gist of it, but that didn’t mean that he was just going to accept it.

How can he say no to her?

“I’ll go… I’ll go lie down.” He cleared his throat, wincing when she wrapped her tiny arms around his waist and thanked him before hurrying off.

Bloody urchin and her bloody pillow fort.

He waited until she disappeared to go grab some of the blankets Mazikeen was supplying her with before hurrying away to find the Detective. He never clarified _when_ he’ll lie down. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t given any specific conditions, now was it?

“You should hurry before the little human comes back.” Mazikeen smirked, getting out of her room quickly and startling him in the porcess.

“Maze.” He nodded, “I… yes, I suppose I should.”

She was carrying a huge pile of pillows and a bottle of vodka, looking as unimpressed as ever.

“Mazikeen?” He ventured just as she passed by.

“Yeah?”

He gulped, trying to get his tongue to cooperate with him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The demon growled before he could even bring it up, “You did what you did, Lucifer.”

“I thought it would be for the best.” Lucifer muttered, “It’s… you didn’t deserve what happened before, Mazikeen. None of it.”

“Lucifer…”

“Thank you.” He smiled, solemn, “Thank you for everything, Mazikeen.”

She'd fought _her._

There had never been any love lost between mother and daughter, but still... Maze had died defending him. She must have been furious at him, but, when the time came, she'd helped.

How could he ever repay her?

She dropped the pillows and the vodka to the floor, glaring at him.

The demon marched up to him, the scowl on her face making him more anxious than he liked to admit.

His body was prepared for a blow. It never came. Instead, he found himself being hugged by Mazikeen.

_Mazikeen of the Lilim was hugging him._

It barely registered in his mind, brief as it was, but Lucifer could somehow understand just how much this simple gesture meant.

“You can shut up now.” She growled, pulling away from him, nose wrinkled in disgust, “Tell anyone about this and I’m going to castrate you.”

“Noted.” He grinned, oddly happy with the way her glare intensified.

“I said shut up.” She reminded him, slapping him lightly on the chest.

Well, lightly for Maze. With the Detective around, he was almost certain that it was going to bruise.

“I didn’t say anything!” He called out after her, shaking his head when she just flipped him off. "You sound extra cheerful today, Mazikeen!"

She paused. Lucifer wondered if she was going to turn around and attack him. Had he gone too far. Was-

"Eve texted me." The demon whispered, not even turning around, "She said she's coming back soon. She said that we can talk and it's just..."

"Good for you, Maze." He congratulated her, genuinely happy. He'd had no idea that Eve was coming back. Maybe things would finally work out for his favourite bounty hunter too.

"Whatever." She shrugged, walking away.

_Same old Maze._

He found the Detective in the kitchen, organizing the snacks for the night. Lucifer watched her for a moment, a small smile on his lips.

She was with him.

She accepted him and she… she _loved_ him.

Despite everything. Despite who he was. Despite how he was unworthy. Despite how-

“Hey.”

He gasped, snapping out of the hold of his spiraling thoughts in an instant. He was a bit breathless, but he still managed to smile at the love of his long, long life. She was so close to him and her hands were loosely wrapped around his neck. Lucifer felt warm. _Happy._

“I missed you.” He told her, kissing her lightly, “Came to check up on you.”

“I thought you should be taking a nap.” She teased.

How could she have heard?

“Trixie has been discussing her plans with me for over ten minutes.” The Detective smiled, “She’s…”

“Really worried about me.” Lucifer finished, “Yes, I understand.”

“It isn’t a bad thing.”

“How is torturing the ones you love a good thing?” He frowned, pleading with her to make him understand.

“Love is complicated.” The Detective told him, “You can lessen the torture by taking care of yourself though. Sleeping would be a good start.”

He tensed, cursing himself. He’d fallen right into that one, hadn’t he?

He knew that the Detective didn’t approve of his current life choices. She thought that he should try to rest more instead of running around and solving cases with her like nothing was wrong. She thought that he should eat more, that he should talk to Doctor Linda more, that he should allow them to take care of him more…

Yet, she gave him his space. How was she so good at knowing what he needed? How did she know him so well?

“You have less nightmares during the day.” She tried to reason with him, her deft fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck, “It will only be a short nap, Lucifer. We’ll wake you up the moment we notice anything wrong, I promise.”

He sighed, knowing that he had already lost the fight.

“Perhaps you could join me?” He wondered, a sultry smile on his lips, “We never got to finish what we started.”

She rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about the spawn and Maze being in the house.

Lucifer didn’t miss her slight blush though.

“We will.” She promised, “We definitely will.”

Lucifer… _woah._ She was just…

She smiled knowingly at him, shaking her head.

“Is your brother going to be alright?” She asked him just before he left.

“He bottles everything up then has a great breakdown over it.” Lucifer sighed, “And he’s… he doesn’t deserve this, Detective. As much as I hate that prick, even I can see that. He’ll be fine though. Like I said, he acts almost emotionless, then it comes back to bite him in the arse every few thousand years.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar!”

For once, Lucifer ignored her.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

When Lucifer woke up, he panicked for a brief moment.

Surprisingly, he’d slept just fine. It was just that having his twin of all people wake him up was… strange.

The days after his return to Earth didn’t count. Lucifer couldn’t remember them much and everything felt like a distant dream.

He rubbed his eyes, hating how he wished he could sleep for five more minutes.

“What are you doing here, Mikey?” He grunted, squinting at his brother before sitting up, “I already told you that your only real option is trying to accept what-”

“Miss Trixie invited me.” His brother bit his lip. Lucifer noticed that the urchin was standing next to Michael, holding his hand and staring at Lucifer impatiently. Michael was dressed in some of Lucifer’s clothes; grey sweatpants and a black, long-sleeved shirt.

Lucifer was glad that his brother wasn’t prancing around in his stupid, heavenly robes anymore. They would need to get the other angel some clothes though. Lucifer was not fond of the idea of sharing his wardrobe with his brother.

“I thought he could join us.” She shrugged, “I heard Mom and Ella talking on the phone and I thought that he could use a friend right now.”

Lucifer smiled a little at that, remembering how she’d shown up to his Penthouse with the same excuse a while ago.

He could use a friend.

Michael could use friends too.

Should he be jealous?

“We’re gonna start soon.” The spawn informed him, grabbing his hand and tugging at it until he pushed the covers away and got out of bed.

He was dressed in regular black and red silk pajamas. He’d had a long shower after picking up the spawn from school and finishing his long talk with his distraught twin. Lucifer hadn’t felt up to wearing a suit for some reason.

He had to spend a few hours at the kitchen with the spawn and then settle down for their movie night. He loved his suits! It was just… 

“Come on.” The urchin ordered.

Lucifer snorted, wondering what their Father would think. Here were the two most powerful angels in creation, the Demiurge, being dragged along to a pillow fort by an impatient human child.

Lucifer didn’t think he minded Falling if this was what it entailed.

Being at peace like this was odd. Was it because of what had happened to Michael? Was it because of all his talks with their Father?

Lucifer didn’t care.

His moment of peace should be treasured. Doctor Linda was right. The world had tortured him more than enough; he shouldn’t strive to torture himself.

The pillow fort was even bigger this time. The couch had been pushed away alongside the table. The entire living room was covered by a canopy of colorful, mismatched blankets. Pillows were stacked up comfortably against the wall and the television was already set up. Even more fairy lights had been used this time. The light was turned off, and their glow was almost magical in the darkness.

Silly humans coming up with the strangest ideas...

Lucifer supposed that they would need the extra space and snacks. Miss Lopez and Michael had been invited at some point. Was the urchin the one who invited them? Was Michael going to stay with Miss Lopez forever now? Maze was going to stay too.

Apparently, that sneaky spawn had all the celestials in the room wrapped around her little finger (except for him of course).

He allowed the urchin to lead them to the pillow fort, enjoying the confusion on his brother’s face. She plopped down on the floor comfortably, grabbing a plate that had a slice of chocolate cake that Lucifer had gotten especially for her. She made the twins sit on either side of her, the little hellion.

“Have you ever watched a movie before, Mikey?” He teased, settling down beside the little girl once he was sure that there was enough space for the Detective next to him.

“No.” His brother shook his head, still looking miserable, “Was I supposed to?”

“You’re going to love it!” The spawn exclaimed, “It’s one of the cool things we have on Earth.”

Michael just nodded, almost afraid. He tried to follow the spawn's excited explanation, getting increasingly lost as she went on.

Miss Lopez settled on Michael’s other side. Mazikeen glared at him before she sat down, but her features softened a little bit when the urchin immediately cuddled up to her. 

"Hi, Lucifer!" Miss Lopez grinned, "Pyjamas and family life suit you, buddy!"

"How dare you?!!"

The Detective came back, beautiful as ever. Always beautiful.

She sat down next to him, a huge tub of popcorn in her hands. Lucifer immediately stole a handful of popcorn for himself. She snorted, leaning against him with her head on his shoulder.

“Is everyone ready?”

“Yes.” Lucifer confirmed, “Let the torture commence, urchin.”

Wasn’t it pathetic?

Here he was, the literal devil, the brightest of all angels, sitting under a bunch of blankets and twinkling, cheap, fairy lights. His supposed archenemy was sitting less than a meter away, getting lectured about Frozen by Miss Lopez and the spawn.

Lucifer should have been disgusted with himself.

He should have been out partying right now, his bed warmed by as many people as it could fill and then some more and his blood full of as many substances as he could snort or drink.

Lucifer knew the truth though.

He’d felt empty back then.

He still loved a good rave. He still loved alcohol (and drugs, but preferably away from his Detective). He still loved sex of course.

But this was different. _Better._

He was _happy._

Everyone around him was talking, passing food around and arguing about whatever was going on on the screen. The Detective’s hand was tracing patterns on his side. She seemed to be more focused on watching him than watching the movie. The urchin was holding his hand in one of hers, occasionally going back to her argument about how he should sing along with her to the ridiculous songs in the movie.

Yet, he was _happy._

At some point, he ended up slumped against the Detective's side instead of the other way around. He was tired, but he didn’t want to go to sleep. He imagined himself dozing off and then startling everybody with his screams when he inevitably had another gruesome nightmare.

Lucifer has had enough embarrassment to last him several lifetimes. He was already trying to be more comfortable with doing what he liked (even if it included game nights and movie nights). He was trying to stop lying to himself, to enjoy this domesticity that he’d craved for so long without even knowing.

He had a _family_ now.

Yet, he wasn’t ready to be weak in front of anyone, except maybe the Detective. Sometimes. Preferably never.

Someone was nudging his shoulder. Lucifer opened his eyes, his scowl deepening when he found his brother next to him instead of Maze and the spawn. Michael sat down, cross-legged, carefully regarding him.

“I was just resting my eyes.” He growled, not bothering to move away from the Detective.

He deserved to relax like this whenever he wanted after all he’d been through. Heaven was her soft touches and the way her eyes shone with an emotion that he could now label as love whenever she looked at him. The Silver City and its eternal bliss could not even dream of comparing to Chloe Jane Decker.

“Right.” His brother nodded, a bit tense, “Trixie, as she insists I call her, was just telling me about the last time you participated in building such a structure.”

“A pillow fort.” Lucifer supplied, wondering when his twin was going to get to the point. “It is a silly, pathetic, human tradition, but it is oddly… comfortable.”

Was there even a point to this conversation?

“She asked me then if I had any ideas for a password for this pillow fort.” Michael continued, uncertain, “Then, she proceeded to inform me about the password you chose the last time.”

_Oh._

Technically, he hadn’t told the urchin that she wasn’t allowed to share the story with his brother. Yet, back then, he’d never thought that he’d see Michael again much less that the little human would get a chance to meet him.

Lucifer’s heart was beating a bit too fast in his chest.

Was his twin going to laugh? Was he going to ridicule him?

Why did he even share that stupid story with the Detective and the urchin?

The problem was that he had no idea what the relationship between him and his twin was. Lucifer didn’t hate him, but he wasn’t a huge fan of him either.

He slowly moved away from the Detective, immensely grateful for the way her fingers slipped into his.

“It still burns bright.” Michael confessed, his words a bit rushed, “After you… Fell, I’d go there. From time to time. The Power of the Demiurge is not much without its Will, but it is evidently enough to keep one tiny star created by two foolhardy, fledgling angels fueled. I could not withstand losing _Esiveanin_ , not after I…”

_Lost you._

He’d lost his brother too, hadn’t he?

Lucifer wanted to punch his brother. How dare he say something like that? How dare he imply that he cared? 

The fire in his veins died out as quickly as it was ignited. It left behind a dull ache all over, a strange sensation that reminded him that something was not right.

“Michael, that’s…”

What could he say?

He knew the Detective was watching. He’d heard her gasp.

“I did not want to.” Michael confessed, his eyes begging Lucifer to understand.

And Lucifer understood.

Of course he understood.

He knew that his brother hadn’t wanted to do it. He knew that both of them had been hurt and broken that day. 

It lessened his desire to punch his brother in the face every time he saw him, but it didn’t magically restore their relationship to what it was.

“Have you met Doctor Linda Martin?” Lucifer asked, not really capable of wording anything else.

“Amenadiel’s wife?”

“They’re not married.” Lucifer corrected, “She is my therapist. Wonderful woman.”

“I only met her and Amenadiel’s spawn briefly.” Michael shrugged.

“You should… Perhaps you should consider accompanying me to some sessions with her at one point.” Lucifer suggested, his voice thick, “Solo sessions would do you good as well. She is frustratingly good at her job, annoying as that might be at times.”

“Alright.” Michael nodded, although he looked confused.

That was about as good of an answer as Lucifer was expecting. Maybe better?

How has the spawn not shushed them yet?

She was busy discussing something with Miss Lopez and Mazikeen, chocolate all around her mouth. Lucifer smiled fondly, hoping that she would stay away from him and his clothing.

He yawned, deciding to relax against the Detective again.

“Do you want me to…” His brother trailed off, continuing the motion with his hand.

Lucifer was tempted to agree.

Michael’s little spell had been an integral part of his nights back when they’d been young. He often decided to skip sleeping all together whenever his twin was too busy with a task their Father had assigned.

Lucifer didn’t think that his pride could take it though.

He knew that everyone was watching them.

“No, thank you.” He replied, trying to be as polite as possible.

“But, I-”

He glared at his brother, effectively shutting him up.

Well, that was odd. Michael had insisted that no real harm had befallen him. He’d just been stuck outside the gates of their home, demanding entrance over and over again. Lucifer worried for his brother’s emotional wellbeing. Since when did that arsehole shut up when he was told to?

“Lucifer.” His brother whispered.

Oh, what did he want now?!!

“I said shut…” Lucifer trailed off, his eyes widening.

_No way._

He almost bolted upright again, staring at his brother in awe.

“It does not sound that bad.” Michael declared, stealing some popcorn from the spawn, trying to go for nonchalant, “It was always your favourite title anyway I suppose.”

Lucifer couldn’t believe it.

He wondered if this was an aftereffect of… everything. He shouldn’t have been this emotional when it came to this. He had a right to be referred to by whatever name he chose for himself.

Yet, hearing his brother say it meant the world to him.

He sighed, snuggling into the Detective’s shoulder. She pressed a kiss to his hair, choosing to not comment on the matter.

Lucifer was grateful for that.

He munched on his Cool Ranch Puffs, following the movie for a while. Eventually, he ended up falling asleep with his head in the Detective’s lap and her hand stroking his hair in the most soothing motion in existence.

He fell asleep, soothed by the comfortable, loving atmosphere of the room, with a tiny smile on his face.

He didn’t have any nightmares that night.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

He smiled, looking at His two sons for the last time that night. This was just the first line of a new chapter in their lives. He could not wait to see it unfold.

So much was yet to happen.

Michael would be better off on Earth. Slowly, he would learn just like his twin did.

Lucifer would be okay.

Lucifer was okay.

_***cries in Deckerstar*** _

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first long fic that I've ever written or completed. Finishing it is... odd.
> 
> I'm so happy and yet so sad. 
> 
> This was such an amazing experience. I mean, woah... What do I even say?
> 
> You can't imagine how grateful I am for every who has read this silly story, commented, bookmarked, or left kudos... You're all so amazing! Special thanks to Fic_me_up_buttercup who gave me the prompt that inspired this!
> 
> I want to write more of course, so I guess I'll probably end up writing another long fic at some point down the road anyway. These past few months have been... Well, you know how 2020 generally is. I hope you're all safe and well!
> 
> Less than three days until s5a drops! How amazing is that? I'm sure that it is going to blow us away with how good it is and I CAN'T WAIT! 
> 
> Thank you for everything. You're all the best!


End file.
